


Somewhere I Know You're Out There

by ZaiaFantasy



Category: Angel: the Series, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Buffy the Vampire Slayer (Comics)
Genre: Ripper, Romance, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-27
Updated: 2018-09-25
Packaged: 2018-09-27 09:11:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 30
Words: 53,348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9996155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZaiaFantasy/pseuds/ZaiaFantasy
Summary: Post Season 7 - A spell gone awry brings Deirdre to the present and sends Faith to 1978 London. She only knows of one person she can turn to for help: Giles. Ripper's running from his destiny as a Watcher but can't hide his natural fascination for a Slayer in the flesh. What happens as they spend time together and how do they fix this blunder in time before things are changed forever?





	1. Bait and Switch

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time posting something on this site. I pretty much live by knowing that someone, somewhere is reading and wants to know more. If you stop by, let me know and I'll keep posting!

"What the hell was that thing?"

The blond Slayer pushed through the door to Giles' London flat looking cranky and a little petulant. The others trailed in after her, worse for the wear and confused. Giles last of all, closing the door behind him. It was quite a crowd tonight in his small 2 bedroom space. Faith plunked herself down on the sofa with a bottle of Jack in hand. Xander sat near her not making any of his usual jokes and Willow was somewhere beyond looking out the window nervously. Buffy was silently glad Dawnie was away at college so she could lead a normal life. 

"I don't know." Giles admitted at last. "It presented as a spirit. The spell Willow and I performed should have worked."

He pushed his glasses up and pinched the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes to try and realign his focus. He replayed the events of the night and relived their spectacular failure in ridding the streets of London of what he thought was a ghost. It was a routine possession, reliving a sequence of events with a very horrid ending. Single victims threw themselves off the Cronoker Bridge in apparent suicide. It claimed three lives this week alone and more to come if they couldn't stop it.

"Should have." The blond retorted, not happy to have been defeated that night. Her Watcher shook his head. Spirits were never really his area of expertise. He had no idea what could present itself as a ghost and not be vulnerable to a ghost's weaknesses. He thought it was safe to say that it wasn't a poltergeist or something similar considering the manifestations were completely different. He suddenly thought of Deirdre and her hobby of spirits. She knew practically every type that existed but she was dead and he couldn't ask her. Once upon a time she was the one that mentioned Eyghon out of pure fascination for "living sleep" and it was Ripper that took it a step further.

He shook his head.

"I'm afraid I'm out of my depth as far as this is concerned. Deirdre was the spirit expert, not me."

He moved to his bookshelf to pick up likely candidates for researching potential. He piled them out for the gang to go to only noticing once he was finished that Willow had not moved. In fact, she seemed very lost in thought and wasn't much aware of what was going on. He moved to her side, careful of her since their daring ploy to thwart the First. It had only been a week or two and Giles thought she might be in shock still from everything they'd been through.

"Willow?"

She started, as if she had no idea he existed at all, let alone had come up beside her. Her round green eyes considered him trying to spark recognition of his features.

"Oh, hey!" The identity dawned on her at last. "What's…"

She trailed off seeing everyone except Faith absorbed in books. She looked alarmed, scrambling to get out of her seat and make up for lost time. The Watcher gently helped, giving her a concerned look as he did and delaying her from crossing to the stack of books. His jade eyes searched her as he held her arm.

"If you need to rest…" he offered lightly.

"No! No, I'm ok." She returned, shaking off his concern. She wasn't going to let anyone know just how bone weary she was from everything. She hid it well all things considering. "I was just thinking. We can still ask her, can't we?"

Giles looked puzzled for a moment, not following. "Deirdre?"

"Yeah. Why can't we ask her? Spirits communicate with the living if you know how to summon them, right?"

"Well, yes, I suppose they do. Or, rather, they can. It's just a matter of finding the right spell."

"Good, then we'll do that. We can bypass research mode for once." Buffy was all for this new plan of action.

"Are you sure?" Jade eyes glowed with concern again, hesitant to let Willow strain herself. She brushed them off and smiled. It mollified him and moved to make preparations. It seemed they had a course of action, albeit an unusual one, but he was happy to have things resolved quickly. It wouldn't take long to find out a simple spirit summoning ritual and have it performed. Far less time to do that than to figure out what this spirit thing actually was. For once he felt like they were on the upper hand in a fight.

When the circle was set up a short time later he positioned Faith, Buffy, himself and Willow around it at the four points. There were specific instructions not to move or break the circle. Willow sat at the head of the circle and started chanting, the powder line of the circle glowing without much help from the candles each person held. The Slayers watched from their posts, knowing they had to do this and yet neither of them magically inclined.

A swirling vortex seemed to appear out of the floor in the middle of the circle, a fine, white mist flooding out of it in rolling waves, coating the floor in fog. Deirdre was solidifying, a younger version than Giles expected, her form taking insubstantial shape in front of them.

"Oh, hey…OH!"

Xander was interrupting from the kitchen, his eye patch preventing him from seeing the duffel bag on the floor Buffy was using to carry weapons in. He tripped and before he could catch himself he crashed into Faith from behind. The brunette pitched forward, trying to find something to stop her fall and literally grasping at air. Everything happened at once. Someone screamed, maybe the witch, and the air seemed to whine with energy. With the circle broken the lights went out and everyone was left in the dark for a few sputtering moments.

"Owwww." Xander lamented, rubbing his bruised shin on the floor. Giles scrambled up and clicked on a lamp. There was chaos in front of him and it took a minute to sort it out. Buffy was the first to react. "Oh my God, Willow!" The blond dashed toward her friend who was lying prostrate on the floor. Giles follow this with his eyes and ran over a form he didn't expect.

"Deirdre?" She was lying in the middle of where the circle had been and appeared to be unconscious as well. He went to her and rolled her over gently, finding her form very solid and warm beneath his hands. His eyes widened to behold her, his grip hesitant as he reached for her body. Better that he should get her away from the others before she woke up. She roused a little as he picked her up, taking in her appearance. Had they ever been so young? It was hard to remember but staring at the only girl in their gang looking like she was no more than twenty five made it seem like no time had passed at all. He set her on a chair in the kitchen and set about doing what he did best in a crisis, making tea.

"Christ, Ripper, that was rough." She complained, not quite into her senses yet as she had not realized that he was older, she was not where she thought she was, and the gang was nowhere in sight. "Next time find something a bit easier on the…"

She finally raised her head and her eyes focused. "Bloody hell!" she breathed, unable to process things for a few long minutes. Giles put the teacup in front of her, the leaves steeping in boiling water. He took the chair opposite her.

"Hello Dee."

"Ripper, I don't understand…"

"Actually, ah, it's Rupert now. Or Giles as the gang calls me."

"They're here, too?"

Giles realized what he'd said and paled a little. Most of the old gang was dead but he couldn't very well tell her that and risk the past. He'd adopted a new one in the form of a family.

"No. I don't run with the people I used to anymore. You might say we all grew up."

Well, most of them had. Ethan was still debatable but then again maturing was always optional.

"I was referring to the Slayer and her friends. Family it feels like sometimes."

There was unmistakable affection in his tone. He'd watched each one grow with pride and in his shock had forgotten one of them was unconscious in the living room. He sighed and tried to figure out what went wrong. She was only supposed to be a spirit. Had they gone wrong somewhere? He puzzled it a while and tried to go over the details of the spell again, each one screaming that it should have worked properly.

"The Slayer?"

He let himself grin, looking recklessly handsome as he did. "Yes. It seems I turned into my father's son after all, though it seems to have worked out well, in the end."

Except for the nightmarish Apocalypses and impossible choices to make. He supposed his life would have been full of that, anyway, if his youth was an indication. He could not get over how Dee looked and the fresh bloom in her cheeks and the shine in her eyes. It was hard to stop himself from staring, his eyes roving over her with new appreciation. She was dead in this time and yet there she was, looking as lovely and strong willed as the first time he saw her. It was that strength that drew him to her in the first place and kept her place among their gang. In a way he had never been to fathom in his youth he beheld her this young and could have wept for how beautiful she was. He may not ever have considered himself attracted to her in the past but he was finding at the moment that her beauty was very becoming in the same way memories appear better than they may have been. 

But then a very worried Slayer appeared in the door.

"I can't wake Willow up. Giles, I moved her to the bed in the guest room but I don't know what to do."

"Oh!" He was startled from his thoughts. "Let me go take a look at her."

Dierdre followed along with no other options she could see. Where she'd come from would simply have to wait until they could manage to get her back. Giles moved into the bedroom to look at Willow who appeared peaceful enough. The only problem was that she was comatose. He frowned, checking her pupils and her pulse and watching her breath. Rudimentary aspects of healing he knew. Beyond that he was arsed. Buffy fretted near him as he sighed, coming to realize there was nothing he could do.

"Whatever it was that brought Deirdre in the flesh must have cost more than simply summoning her spirit. I knew she was weakened from what she did in Sunnydale but a routine summoning I was sure she could handle. We couldn't have anticipated this. I wish I knew what went wrong. I should consult my books."

Xander then appeared in the doorway, looking strained.

"I guess no one noticed. Faith's missing."


	2. Finding Old Friends

"I beg your pardon?"

Giles blinked at him for a few long seconds, unable to understand what had just been said. What did he mean, gone?

The brown haired boy shook his head, having been the only person in the living room to notice when everyone went their separate ways. Missing Faith seemed like a big thing to lose and the others felt pretty bad for it. They fanned out, each person taking a room to look. Giles had been in the kitchen with Deirdre and skipped looking there. Buffy brought Willow into the spare room and knew she wasn't there. In the end they had to admit that she was gone, probably in the confusion. They tried calling her phone, to no avail. 

Giles frowned. "I don't suppose…"

A worried Slayer responded tersely, "spill." Faith wasn't her favorite person but there was respect now, common ground.

"Deirdre isn't meant to be here. Not in the flesh, I mean, or this incarnation of self. I wonder if…" he trailed off as he realized the woman was standing just behind him and had just heard something it was probably best not to hear. "Oh, Dee, I'm sorry."

"No. I understand. I won't ask though I should probably get back as soon as I can to prevent anything else from going wrong."

Giles was now figuring out the temporal implications of what they'd done. He frowned. "Dee, if you're here...how old are you?"

"I'm twenty one."

"That would make me twenty three so you came from 1978."

"Wouldn't it have been easier just to ask her what year she came from.?"

"Xander, be quiet."

"Right."

"Maybe the magic thought-"

"The magic thinks?"

"Buffy, please. This is only speculation and your questions aren't helping."

Chastised, she quieted. He continued.

"The magic might have taken Faith in trade, essentially, pulling Deirdre from a point in the past to be flesh and bone in the present. I can only hope that means Faith is in the past somewhere and not lost in the ether. Either way it could be disastrous for her."

"Hello? Didn't you see the Butterfly Effect? It could be bad for all of us!"

"Xander, that theory is more than a movie." He tried supremely hard not to roll his eyes and failed, having to look away lest he be seen. "I'm quite familiar with the concept."

"He's right, Ripper," Dee supplied.

"I know."

Giles crossed the room to his bookshelf and moved to take several volumes from it. From the way the other two moved it was clear to Deirdre that this was practiced routine though Xander moved to get his coat on. She looked puzzled. "You're leaving?"

"Donuts."

"Don't forget the jellies."

"G-man, in all the time you've known me have I ever let you down?"

The pointed look Xander received in return quieted him for a moment before he responded. 

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. I know the routine. Jellies for you, chocolate for Buffy and sprinkles for Willow." Not that Willow would need them at the moment. His face fell as soon as the sentence was spoken. 

"If I might be so bold?" Dee piped up. He paused. "Maple for me?"

He grinned and was out the door.

The others delved into research trying to figure out how Deirdre was there and where Faith had gone to, whether she had, in fact, been taken in exchange. The Watcher caught himself giving sidelong glances to his former friend sitting innocently in the flesh no more than a few feet from him. Part of him was immensely gratified to see her and how young and vibrant she was. The other worried that this was not her time and she'd change things by being here, make different choices. How this had gone was certainly not meant to be and he was sure there would be consequences to bear.

Buffy was the first to give up and get bored even with donuts to satisfy her. She paced restlessly, worried for Willow and even part of her worried for Faith. They were the original two and there was strength and solidarity in that. They may be at odds but they had a shared past, similar fears and concerns. No, Buffy needed to keep Faith around. Willow, however, was in the forefront of her mind. Giles was happy to have the help from someone that understood magic and possession. She knew she didn't belong and she was worried about what would happen when she returned to her own time.

"So far my theory holds true. Something like this takes an exceptional amount of energy and Willow did not have anything to channel it through like she did with the scythe. I'm afraid she's quite overwhelmed her body. It would explain the state she's in."

"So that means she'll wake up when she rests, doesn't it? She's just tired?"

"I'm afraid magical influence doesn't work in that way, Buffy. It's difficult to say how long it will take her to wake," he paused, swallowing hard, "if she does at all."

"If is not the right answer, Giles."

"Of course I'll do everything I can but it's the only answer, for now, that I have to give Buffy."

"Try harder."

Giles understood that she was simply concerned for her friend and let it drop, returning to his books without another comment. He wanted Willow to wake as much as the rest of them. Moreso because he should have seen through her brave front and prevented her from doing this in the first place. She was powerful but far from invulnerable. The Watcher sighed, flipping through the book to another section he thought might help. Faith was the priority for now. Willow's condition, while tragic, was completely stable. She'd wake or she wouldn't. Faith, however, was gone and no one knew where. That took precedence.

When Buffy and Xander left the room Deirdre looked up from her own book. She was still amazed by everything that had happened and how things had changed. In a certain light the boyish charm of his youth could be seen clearly. She'd fancied him, still did at this age with all of the chaos around them and even with this difference. He lifted his eyebrow never taking his eyes off of the text in front of him.

"You never were subtle." He observed.

"You'll have to take my memory, you know." She responded evenly knowing he never knew a thing about her being head over heels for him for most of the time they knew each other. He had his pick of women so she accepted his eye would never fall to her. Never had, apparently. She frowned to think of forgetting this.

"I'm not thinking that far ahead yet, Dee."

"No, of course, you're right." She always was the reasonable one among them. "But when you are that might bear some consideration. If I remember all of this I could alter the past in unfathomable ways."

"I know." And he worried that if the didn't get to Faith soon they would face the same issue, wherever she was. He had no idea the Slayer was closer to home than he could have imagined.


	3. Unfamiliar Territory

_Ay, Oh! Let's go! Ay Oh! Let's go!_

Faith groaned.

The first thing she was aware of was the loud shouting and heavy guitar rifts of music not very far from where she was. The second thing was an enormous headache that made her feel like the world was right on top of her head, weighing heavy on her shoulders and causing her to feel like her mind would explode. She went to move and it felt like the world shifted on it axis and she collapsed back down again as a wave of nausea swept over her prone body. That's when she noticed the wet concrete beneath her and not the carpet of the living room she expected. The brunette chanced opening her eyes and waited the long minutes it took for them to focus.

She was in an alley, face down as it happened, and she didn't immediately recognize where she was which meant she was somewhere unfamiliar. The music kept pounding away and she figured it had to be close by. Painfully she pushed herself up to her knees, sitting on them a minute to steady herself as a second wave of nausea hit her, and then pushed herself to standing. She felt like she'd been hit by a truck and nothing ever made her feel this way. Nothing short of battling pure evil, anyway.

Unfortunately she couldn't remember what happened before waking up on the ground.

Faith shook, figuring she needed to find out where she was first and to do that she needed to be around people. The music was coming from what seemed to be a club across the street. She headed toward it and pinpointed the music as the Ramones, something she recognized. It was slow going but she came closer to the bar and felt a bit better as she moved and blood started flowing again. She remembered thinking that Giles did not have this good of taste in music.

Things started to stop making sense when she saw the cars parked on the street – all old models and all with old plates. When she saw people they were dressed in a way she was not used to and looked at her in her leather like she was strange. Ok, that much wasn't very unusual but still she felt unnerved. After some searching she found a newspaper.

"Oh, fuck me!" she grumbled. The date read September 15th, 1978. Her sense of being wasn't getting any better. "What. The. Fuck?"

The newspaper showed that she was in London, though that was of little comfort considering she didn't know the city very well. She'd only just arrived a month or two ago and was pretty sure Giles wasn't at his townhouse now. She didn't know how old he was in this time exactly, just somewhere in his twenties. She guessed. Dates and things weren't necessarily something she kept track of. It was all very superfluous before but now she wished she'd paid attention. But if anyone knew how to send her home, despite the age, it was Giles.

Faith knew nothing of Ripper.

She moved toward what appeared to be a thrasher club on the wrong side of the tracks. At least that was familiar territory even if she'd never been there before. All of these types of places were the same and all of them attracted the same types of people. It would be easier to get info out of a drunken guy looking for a good time. Faith was just the person to exploit that and though it would be hell on her head and her nerves she knew it was pretty much her only avenue without appearing like a crazy person with visions of 2003 in her mind.

As she approached the club several people were on their way out. One of them brushed into her with his arm wrapped around a far out looking blond in tight clothing. Faith, feeling upset and aggressive, turned and paused. "HEY! Excuse you"

The man stopped, turning himself, his arm sliding from the blond's shoulder. "What?"

"You heard me."

Apparently he wasn't used to being called on his misconduct as his eyes narrowed and a dangerous glint was cast in his jade eyes. He apparently had no idea he was crossing a Slayer.

"I'm not apologizing to anyone."

"You will." Getting out a little aggression was a good thing in the brunette's eyes. She didn't notice the magic starting to crackle around his own fists, too busy imagining a good beat down. As she took a step forward the blond slid effortlessly between them apparently unwilling to wait while the two clashed before she got what she wanted.

"Ripper…" she purred, kissing him deeply enough to distract him and the magic dropped. "What are you doing wasting time? You can't hit girls."

His meltingly handsome grin was the response as he pulled her possessively to himself and kissed her again. "Of course you're right, dove, though she hardly qualifies."

He and his mates had a good laugh and Faith was not feeling any better, coaching herself against jumping him and pummeling him senseless. A headachy confused wibbly wobbly timey wimey slayer was not a happy slayer. But she recognized that getting arrested would not be the best way to get home and stood rigidly as he walked away, staring daggers into his back. Disaster was averted for now. The thought of entering the club made her head want to preemptively split open but she forced herself to move forward.

Inside the club was what she expected it to be. It was dark and there were plenty of people clad in leather, like she, and the moment she walked in she noticed several pairs of eyes narrowing in on her. It was like shooting fish in a barrel. Pretty soon someone was bold enough to approach thinking her easy prey in the smoke. She let them.

"Arrow."

He extended his hand and she assumed that was the name he went by rather than anything important.

"Faith."

But she didn't take his hand and instead moved away from him, playing a game she'd moved through the motions of too many times to count. He took the bait and followed, smiling after her. "Buy you a shot?"

"Sure." Who was she to turn down free booze?

"Oye!" He signaled the bartender and ordered their drinks. Faith took hers with the ease of long practice, hoping to dull the ache in her head. That earned her an impressed look. This was promising. She was the little hellion their mothers warned them about but from where she was sitting he didn't seem very concerned with warnings. That worked out better for Faith, anyway and she meant to use that advantage as long as she had it. Information – that was the name of the game. She grabbed him by the neck of his shirt and tugged him with her away from the bar.

"Let's dance."

 


	4. Can't Be Blamed

"Oh bugger."

Giles jumped back as the spell he was performing backfired and began belching great plumes of black smoke. It rose where he'd been standing to disperse in his formerly clean living room. He sighed in defeat, slumping against the wall behind him. It was clear Faith was not around, at least no place on Earth he could track. He'd been trying by every conventional means at his disposal and even some not so ordinary ones to find out where she'd gone. Willow was still in her coma, of sorts, though she was stable. Xander blamed himself for everything, which wasn't altogether good but no one had yet been successful in talking him out of it.

"Good heavens!"

Dee entered the room, opening a window to let the smoke billow out of his apartment. If anyone spotted it below it might cause panic but he was hardly fussed to care. The concerns he had were greater than a false alarm for fire. His friend led him to the couch and sat him down; he needed the rest, often forgoing sleep in this pursuit. She gave him a sympathetic look and held onto him quietly, letting him rest his head on her shoulder as she stroked his hair.

"That feels nice, Dee." He admitted quietly, closing his eyes to try and rest them as well.

"Shhh. If you keep pushing yourself like this you'll go mad, Ripper."

"I have to find her. If she's lost in the ether there's no telling what might happen. She may die, or go mad, or get trapped in some untold hell."

"We'll find her. You have a brilliant mind but if you keep at it like this we'll lose you. We can't afford to lose your mind now."

"I thought defeating the Hellmouth might make things easier."

That statement had nothing to do with the situation at had, or very little, and everything to do with his state of mind and expectations.

"It was relative, of course, since there are other things to deal with but I hoped…" he sighed, "I hoped Buffy and Faith might have a chance at a normal life with others to take up the mantle. I wanted them to find happiness and try and test the waters. Now look what's happened."

"It was an accident. You can't be blamed."

"I don't blame myself. I just…I think I'm tired of the struggle. Everyone knows the uphill battle of a Slayer and I suffered Buffy dying twice. My end of the bargain should have been over and now I'm still here, still struggling and I…"

"You wanted a chance to find normal, too."

"Wouldn't you?" He moved away from her reach and shifted on the couch, opening his eyes to look at her. "It's a lonely life. My flesh and my career have denied me children, a wife. I have a family in these children, ah, adults, but it's not the same." 

He took his glasses off and set them on the table, thinking a moment before he continued. Somehow, she was easier to talk to than any of the gang: a familiar presence. 

"When I knew you I didn't care about normal. I didn't care about a family and all but gave away my future. I was content to bargain myself to new thrills. But now I see my formative years at an end and the autumn of my life approaching and I wish I had normal, respite. Reforming the Council gave me hope that I, too, could pass off my mantle and try to find a relative normal for myself. I want to be in love, Dee, and to try and fill the rest of my time with laughter and companionship. Not disasters like this."

"Rupert…" She shook her head, calling him properly by his first name. He really had no idea, did he? It was almost cruelly ironic. "You really never guessed, did you?"

He looked puzzled, too lost in his own thoughts to really process what she was saying. "Guess what?"

"I'm over the moon for you. Always was. Would have followed you on a string if you so much as glanced my way too long. Do you have any idea how long I've wanted to tell you? But I knew it would never happen. Ethan would have hounded you until you were rid of me and you've have gotten bored quickly enough."

"Dee..." he reached for her realizing for the first time the subtlety of a million looks she gave him. He'd had no idea and it would have been how she said. He didn't want anything to tie him down when he was younger. And then he'd been so wrapped up in schooling and the Council he never gave it a thought. She'd married by then, of course, many years afterward.

"It's nothing. I'll forget I ever told you when you send me back."

"If it helps you married. Nice chap." Until they divorced but why bog her down with that?

"You don't have to cheer me up. I'm fine."

He kissed her temple lightly, pushing a chunk of her hair out of the way. "You were always a good friend, Dee. I always wished we'd kept in touch more regularly."

"I'll hold you to that."

She looked around the room and noted that she smoke was mostly gone now. His experiment's remnants were lying innocuously on the table.

"Go lie down Rupert. Have a rest. Everything will be here when you wake up."

He nodded and ceded to her order, moving himself into his bedroom and all but collapsing on the bed. He didn't even bother to undress himself as he gathered up his pillow in his arms. Before he was consciously aware of falling he was asleep. The world ceased to be around him and he began to dream of a dark street in his youth. It was a night like any other, loud music behind him and a girl on his arm. He saw himself, his leather jacket and his earring glittering in the lamplight. He saw Ethan to one side, Richard to another and Randall somewhere behind.

And a girl.

There was a girl in front of him, angering him. He struggled to focus but the image was grainy like old film in his mind. He looked and tried to focus. Faith. It was Faith. He saw that cascade of brown hair and those spitfire eyes.

That's impossible.

His mind flickered, knowing it was impossible to be seeing her in what appeared to be a memory. He told himself that it was the focus of recent events, pouring all his attention on her coupled with the revelation of what Deirdre told him that switched this out. Not Faith. No, impossible for it to be Faith.

The image wavered, Deirdre replacing the brunette and then the image faded away completely into oblivion. He sighed in his sleep and let it go.


	5. Meeting Ripper

It took some doing but she finally tracked down enough rumors to find out where an R. Giles might be found. The first place she'd been directed to, a charming townhome in the rich part of town, told her very frankly that no one named Rupert was home, or was likely to be any time soon. The butler, she assumed it was the butler, then closed the door in her face and did not allow any more questions. The building in front of her now wasn't promising. It was on the wrong side of town, a run down place in a row of other run down brownstones that might have been nice at one time but suffered from a severe lack of give a damn. She looked it over from across the street first, trying to take measure of it, and then moved over to climb the stoop to the front door. She didn't know anything about a young Giles but reasoned he had to be the same as he was in her time. Born in tweed diapers, that's what the joke was, right?

She knocked.

There was thudding inside, cursing, someone moving closer to the door. She listened to their progress and wasn't surprised when the door swung open. The early morning sunlight wasn't something she liked seeing but when it struck the very rock hard abs of the male in front of her she couldn't help but find it wildly appealing. She stared at that first, her eyes drifting up from the waistband of loose cotton pants up the body to finally look at the face that, so happened, had a scowl on it. The blood shot eyes told his story. The scowl added to it.

"What do you want?"

It was the man from the night before but neither remembered the brief confrontation. She'd had other things on her mind and he'd been drunk.

"I'm looking for Giles, uh, Rupert."

A flicker of recognition, barely a hint of it on his face and in his eyes. He knew what she was talking about. His first name was foreign on her tongue but if she wanted to find him this was the route. He was the only person she trusted to help her get back to the right time and that was the only lead she had. Going to the Council was pretty much out of the question. They'd probably treat this like the Inquisition and she didn't want that.

"Who're you?" Came the nasty reply.

"Faith."

"Faith who?"

"Seriously? You wanna go back to bed, probably dealing with a massive hangover, and I just want to talk to him so if you could pull your head out and let me know if he's here or not that'd be great."

He looked at her, surprised, another flicker of recognition in his eyes. The attitude seemed familiar but no one dared question him, at least no one that knew him well. It certainly made it easier to run his gang but it also often left him with a desire for a challenge. He knew that about himself and as the stakes traveled higher and higher for him in his night time games the would be Watcher knew it could only ever end in disaster. It was like a train wreck as devastating in scope and yet he was unable to stray from his path.

"No one calls me Rupert. Or Giles," though that had a ring to it. "The name's Ripper."

"Oh. My. God." Now that she looked she saw the similarities. She'd heard something about Ripper but not much and certainly not enough to put the pieces together last night. He was devastatingly handsome and Faith could not help but wonder that the owner of those abs was the same tweedy librarian she'd first met. What a difference a decade or two could make! Her eyes raised up to his own as she struggled to deal with the discrepancies.

"I need your help." Easier to get straight to the point rather than beating around the bush. "And you're the only one I know who can help me."

"But I don't know you."

"You will. I'm from the future."

Oh, great. Fave shades of fantastic. She was at his door in the seventies speaking that phrase. She didn't expect him probably take her seriously. All she needed to complete the idiocy was a silver lame suit and some sort of fake ray gun. The look on his face spoke of this reluctance and she half expected him to slam the door in her face. But he didn't do that. In fact she thought she saw something else in him, hard to place.

"Prove it."

"Ummm…" She didn't know much about Ripper, precious little. "You're supposed to be a Watcher. Your dad was, I think, and your granddad."

"Grandmother." He corrected sternly, his facial expression deepening in its displeasure.

"Ok. But the point is that you should be a Watcher. And you're not. This is what you did to get away from being a Watcher."

"How do you know that?"

"Cause I'm a Slayer."

"You're joking. You?" She didn't look like any Slayer he'd ever imagined. She was beautiful, tough.

"Yeah. Me. In the flesh."

He finally relented and opened the door to allow her into his flat. He shared it with the others but they were all crashed or elsewhere. He led her through the house and she marveled at the sights she saw. It was unkempt and looked like it might fall down from the inside but he was there and it didn't appear to bother him. She shrugged and kept walking. When they got into his room, she assumed it was his room, the blond was still lying in his bed, barely covered by the sheet. It was obvious what happened there the night before but it was also very evident that Giles has slept on the couch by the way it had a pillow and blanket and still appeared rumpled.

Unceremoniously, he woke her. "Time to fly away, dove."

She was not awake enough to be annoyed or had simply expected it. To Faith's utter amazement she simply left without another sound. She looked around at the mattress on the floor and the sunlight working its way through the cracks in the boarded up window and thought his room could not look any more clichéd of a rebel badass if he tried. Except maybe if he had painted his walls black but that would be work and she doubted he gave that much of a shit about it.

"Have a seat."

"Where?" She looked around. There weren't any chairs and the couch was still done up like a makeshift bed. He picked up the covers and tossed them onto the mattress.

"I thought you were rich." She'd heard that somewhere, right?

"My parents are rich. They cut me off when I decided not to give my life to some poor girl with a suicide mission in life."

"Can's say I blame you there as one of those girls with a suicide mission. I wouldn't be me if given the chance."

"You'd give it up?"

"Probably. Don't get me wrong…I like being a Slayer. There's just something about having the strength to stand up to those bastards that gets me off. When that adrenaline hits and all you can hear is the rush of blood in your ears and you get this surge of power going there's nothing like it. It's just," a faraway look crossed her eyes, "nothing like it."

"Prove it to me."

"What?"

"You want my help. You claim to be a Slayer. Prove it to me."

"Right now?"

"Don't be daft. When the sun sets, of course."

"If I prove it you promise to help me get back to my time?"

A charming, roguishly handsome smile. "Maybe…"


	6. Breakthrough

Rupert was having an unusual dream, again.

He was in the old flat back in London in his youth and he was talking to a girl that claimed…claimed to be from the future. Yes, that's what it was. Who on Earth ever claimed to be from the future in his past? He couldn't think of anyone but the scene was very clear on that point. He dismissed Faith's image outright until the conversation unfolded a bit more. She sounded very much like the Faith he knew, her words were things he knew she'd say.

Then she mentioned something he didn't know. He's speculated it, of course, but he hadn't known she lived with her previous Watcher or that she'd loved him like family. He simply didn't have the knowledge of the event or the intimate details of how David died. He listened to her tale with rapt fascination, learning part of the inner workings of a very complicated young woman.

He was beginning to suspect this was not a dream. He was also beginning to think that this was not a daily focus being brought into subconscious dreaming. These didn't feel like dreams. They felt like memories, hazy and tangible all at once. A few things started clicking in place and he woke in a cold sweat. His head ached a little but he also had a whopper of a puzzle peace fall into place.

"She's in the past. Of course! The magic pulled Dee from, when was it? 1978? It must have taken Faith in exchange and threw her into the past in Deirdre's place. She probably only sought me out because I'm the person she knows in London and she wouldn't trust the Council."

He took a deep breath, pulling in air and letting out in a slow and steady woosh. This was not good. The results of this could be disastrous to his younger self and the time line. They needed to get her back into the present and Dee back into the past as soon as possible. But, he consoled himself, at least she wasn't stuck in the ether somewhere or lost in some other way from this mix up. He could deliver some happy news to the worried Scoobies. As for Willow…that was a dilemma stable for now. Her body needed rest. It would come out of this coma in time.

He hoped.

The Watcher moved from his bed where Dee commanded him and moved back into the living room picking up every book her had that even remotely dealt with time travel, time glitches, and the butterfly effect. If there was a way to prevent any trouble he wanted to find it. If there was a way to pick Faith up and bring her home easily he wanted to find it. Buffy was asleep on the couch and murmured as he turned on the lamp, used to this. She simply turned over in her sleep and brought the blanket more firmly around herself.

"Bugger, bugger, bugger, bugger." He grumbled, scanning over a page but really turning over the problem at hand.

"That's not a good word."

The man started as Xander came into the room looking rumpled and a bit worse for the wear. He took a seat opposite Giles and picked up a book from the table. Checking the title the boy lifted an eyebrow.

"Something you want to share with the rest of the class?"

"I've figure out where Faith is, I think. I can't be sure yet but the signs and the logic follows."

"I'm not following. Point me in the right direction. Where is Faith?"

Giles looked up, jade eyes observing the guilt on the other's face even if his tone was the usual sarcasm he employed.

"I suspect Faith is in the past. Specifically she's in the place and time Deirdre is supposed to be in."

"The past?"

"Yes. 1978 to be exact."

"Well, great. Just yank her back and call it a day."

"It's not that simple, Xander. There are factors, risks, both to Faith and to Deirdre. I can't just, as you so delicately put it, yank her back. She's made contact with me in the past and seems to be filling the gap created by Dee's disappearance. But this is a good thing. As she makes contact I seem to be remembering it through dreams. In this way we can track her for when we have a solid idea of how to fix this."

"And how long will that be?"

"I don't know yet. I'm not a bloody magician. I can't pull answers out of a hat."

The other was sufficiently chastised and shook his head. "What are the risks?"

"She could alter the past, Xander. She could change things by being there, seeing me. And if I change them back Dee could change things by knowing the future and even if we manage to avoid this quantum mechanical problem there's still the logistics of a spell powerful enough to send both women back to their respective times and simple enough that I can perform it on my own."

"Oh."

"Indeed." The others dry tone did little to disguise his frustration and little of it was actually aimed at Xander himself.

"How can I help?"

"I'm not sure yet. I need you to make a list of the pages where I can find simple spells that transcend time and space, recall lost objects and such. Perhaps I can utilize this same desire to fuel the larger spell to retrieve Faith."

The boy set to work and both men worked through the night until the sun began turning the sky from dark blue to orange and pink. Xander was passed out on the table as the sun rose properly, head cradled in the crook of his arm. Giles was not much better, bleary eyed and struggling to stay away in his own chair, head dipping only to jerk back up again suddenly. He was trying to do this on remarkably little sleep. Dee was right, he was not going to do well unless he was rested.

"Giles?"

He jumped, his leg kicking out to meet the solid wood of the table. Pain flared through his body and he swore, looking to the person that woke him from dozing, his Slayer. Chagrined and rubbing his shin ruefully he sighed.

"How long have I been asleep?"

"I don't think you really were. Maybe ten minutes. How long have you been out here working?"

"I don't know. What time is it?"

"Almost seven."

"About nine hours then, I suppose."

"Go to sleep."

"I can't. I know where Faith is. I need to bring her back."

He quickly outlined his thoughts and the findings of the night before wishing there was some way to verify this more than simply dreaming things that had not existed and working on theory alone. To her credit Buffy took it in stride, nodding along with his theory. It was as good as any other and it was the only thing they had to work on. It would have to do.

He was asleep again not long after Buffy sat down to help. His head was tilted at an angle that would scream pain when he woke but the Slayer didn't dare wake him for fear that this brief nap was the only sleep he'd allow himself for a long time. She knew his habits and knew that when he was hot on the heels of a theory he'd stop at nothing. This seemed especially dire since there was time involved and the manipulation and possible corruption of timelines.

Just another day in the life of the Slayer.


	7. Dark Places

Faith wasn't quite sure where she stood. Ripper, and she made the distinction, hadn't promised to help her but he hadn't thrown her out or otherwise denied her help, either. Prove it. She knew she could but it was something of an intimidating prospect. Faith wasn't sure what to do with herself in London to pass the time between then and sunset but somehow the time passed all the same and soon enough she was knocking on his door again. He answered with the usual scowl painting his very handsome face. She tried to ignore that he usually looked like she was bothering him.

"Ready to go?"

"Yeah, hang on a tick."

He grabbed his leather jacket and slung it over his shoulder. She didn't see any evidence of a cross or stake and thought not being prepared was a rookie mistake.

"You know, these guys don't play nice. Don't you wanna bring something?"

"I can't imagine you'd let anything happen to me. You need me." That wasn't a compliment or an assurance of confidence. It was an unmistakable challenge. She sighed. This was all getting very tiresome very quickly. The seventies weren't what she'd heard.

"Where to?"

"You don't know?"

She shrugged. "This is your town, I'm just playin in it."

"That remains to be seen..."

Still, he led them down the street, quiet for a while as they walked. They reached a cemetery shortly after leaving and he seemed to be able to navigate there without any trouble. More than simply being a resident, she wondered if he had tried to master his calling once upon a time.

"Here we are."

"This'll do."

They made their way inside. It wasn't as large a cemetery as she was used to but that just meant it wouldn't be as exciting. Part of her was disappointed.

"So how old are you?" He asked, though she didn't think he was asking to be polite.

"How old are you?"

"Twenty three."

"Yeah?" That made her pause and turn around, looking at him again. "Me, too."

"Aren't you a little old…to be a Slayer?"

"You mean to be alive."

"Isn't that what I said?"

"Not quite."

"Well, aren't you?"

"Yeah, I guess I am."

"So…you know me where you come from. That's why you sought me out, isn't it?"

"Yeah, I do, but it's not like…" She paused, realizing that she probably shouldn't say anything. "Oh, no! I may not understand much about this mess but I do know that the future isn't something you and I will be talking about."

"Are you my Slayer?" He wanted to think so, considering she was alive this long. He could attribute that to his own skill if so and use it to boost his already inflated ego. At the moment he wasn't thinking about the fact that this mean he would, at some point, return to his calling.

"No, I'm not your Slayer."

"You mean I don't have one?" Well that was disappointing.

"No, you do."

"But then how are you…?"

"No talking about the future, remember?"

"Oh, bloody hell! Give me something!"

"Buffy. Her name is Buffy."

"Buffy?" The quirked look on his face reminded her momentarily of a puppy that thought you threw a ball yet couldn't find it. She almost snickered. He looked back up after a moment, the look gone. "Am I at least still getting laid?"

"That's something else you and I will not be talking about." She wanted to scrub her brain now at the very thought of it. Giles…getting laid. Oh, God!

"Oh, come on! I can't be all dried up."

"You realize you're OLD where I come from, right?"

"So? I should still be good. And good looking. What's the problem?"

"Those are things I just don't want to know or think about."

"Have we had sex?"

"Look, I like having a little fun. I'm not shy of the bump and grind but you and me have never happened. We will never happen! Just…STOP!"

Maybe it was a little hypocritical of her to react quite this strongly considering her escapades with former Principal Wood, a man only marginally younger than Giles, but he was just…Giles. Like Buffy, Faith had never considered him in those circumstances and with, in her mind at least, good reason. So lost was she in this nightmare that was their conversation Faith failed to notice the vampires that didn't quite have to sneak up on the pair.

It barreled her to the ground from behind and she let out a startled and angry yell, mind instantly blaming her companion before it dropped into Slayer mode and all she could focus on was the fight. Being there in the fight was something she couldn't explain to anyone that wasn't a Slayer. It was like the entire world slowed down and she could see it all, heartbeat by heartbeat. Certain things mystified Faith: love, family, trust. But this she understood all too well and thrived on it.

Her eyes barely darted between the dead men, anticipating who would come at her first and how he intended to hit her. It was rarely a surprise when they acted and she was able to counter their hits with ease. She took a few blows here and there but within a few minutes it was easy to see why she was the Slayer and that though they outnumbered her, the vampires were on the losing side of things. In fairly quick succession she dusted two, leaving one that had been hanging back through the fight, a ring leader. He leapt on her from behind, knocking her to the ground as she gave a cry. It turned to an angry growl as she rolled with him, trying to keep his fangs away from her neck. He had his hands around her throat, and she was struggling for air.

And then she wasn't.

The vampire scrambled off of her, holding his own throat and coughing violently. Smoke came pouring out of his mouth until he turned into dust, burnt from the inside out.

"The hell?"

Faith stared in wonder for a moment before she remembered that she was not alone. She turned her wide eyes on him to catch the smirk on his lips. She realized now why he didn't bother to carry around crosses or stakes. He had the power to defeat them with it. His magic was strong but she remembered what Giles said time and time again: it was not without a cost. She shook her head, impressed and slightly chagrined.

"You believe me now?"

"Are you kidding? I had to save your arse, nice as it is."

"I had him! You didn't have to do anything. You just wanted to show off." She was not prepared to deal with comments about her backside at the moment.

"Maybe I did," he admitted wryly, though no one ever called him on it. He gave her a wolfish grin and expected all to be forgiven. "And maybe you are the Slayer."

"Ya think?"

"Alright, I'll try to help you get back to your own time."

He was actually rather pleased by the challenge of it and whatever magic he had to use was bound to be powerful. It wasn't like summoning demons or chasing after more power. This was a chance to do something huge, crossing time, and he wouldn't miss it for the world. It was a chance to see what he could really do.

"I think this is the start of an interesting friendship, pet."

"Don't ever, ever, call me pet."

"Whatever you say, dove."


	8. Finding the Light

If he dreamt, he didn't remember it other than to say he felt vaguely apprehensive. Giles woke to a heavenly aroma and opened his eyes to see a lovely, steaming cup of hot coffee sitting in front of him. Normally he didn't drink the stuff but he was fast making an exception in order to stay awake to try to figure all of this out. His back and neck ached; he stretched them as best he could from his chair. He'd been practically living in the thing for days. Giles groaned, his head aching along with everything else.

As he took his first sip of the brew, his eyes floated around the room and found Deirdre nestled on the end of the couch, bathed in the morning light. She was watching him and trying not to look like it, open book in front of her.

"Thanks for the coffee, Dee."

"Not just coffee."

He looked back down and discovered two painkillers lying on the table next to the cup. He immediately picked them up and popped them into his mouth, washing them down with enough coffee to scald his tongue a little bit. That hardly mattered when the idea of being pain free, or close to it, was so close at hand.

"Bless you," he breathed, leaning back and waiting anxiously for them to kick in. First thing he was going to do when this was all over was to have a stiff drink. Several, probably.

"Everyone else is still sleeping. Buffy had a late night. I think she went to the bridge to try to stop spirit from taking another life. From the way she looked when she came in, I don't believe she was successful."

"Bugger." He closed his eyes and looked at the books scattered around him that revolved around temporal disturbance much more than spiritual entities. "Buffy doesn't have the best track record with ghosts, or whatever this is. I should have been there with her."

"You have a lot on your plate."

"I should still have been there. She needs me." But as he said before, he was out of his depth with spirits and honestly hadn't been researching them more than he was trying to find a way to get Faith back. "Do you know what it is?"

His friend held up the book she was reading and gave him a grin. "I'm beginning to have an idea, I think. It's mimicking a ghost in that it's reliving a pattern, but other things can do that as well. All the victims are young men in their middle twenties. Whatever it is seems to be choosing who it takes very carefully. Off the top of my head it looks like anger, or revenge."

"A vengeance demon would have the power to do something like this. The pattern is a little unusual but not out of the realm of possibility."

"I was thinking more of a vengeful poltergeist. They present like spirits but they don't submit to the usual bindings."

"We'd have to find the poltergeist's origin to bind it. That's a lot of digging."

"Or looking at the local papers."

He had them delivered so he could look out for occurrences that might warrant a Slayer's attention. Dee had part of that stack by her side, lifting up the front page of one that came out shortly before the suicides started happening. On the front was the picture of a young man, in his twenties, that was found in the river just under the Cronoker bridge. No one knew who he was or why he was there. At the time of printing no one even knew his name and people with information were urged to come forward.

"If his death was wrongful, I could see why he'd be angry."

"And if that anger was powerful enough he could manifest. He wants attention."

"Which makes for a particularly nasty poltergeist."

"But at least a spirit we can fight. If he died at the bridge that's probably where his power is."

"Well that seems to give headway on one problem. What would I do without you, Dee?"

"Pine away listlessly."

He smiled, trying to hide the chuckle that rose in his throat. He had missed her when the gang split, in later years. She'd always been the calm in their chaotic world, the perfect go between with him and Ethan. Seeing her like this now made him ache for those days a little. Though he'd done some of the worst acts of his life he'd also made some good friends that distance made scarce. He regretted that sorely.

"Well, when the gang wakes we can get them on that problem. I feel my focus is still needed on this one."

"People are dying, Rupert."

He sighed, taking a long pull from his coffee. It cooled enough to be readily drinkable and he was thankful for it. Indeed, even the painkillers lessened the strain on his muscles. He finally took the chance of standing, walking over to the window to drink in what was surely his only taste of sunlight and leisure for the day. He felt like the weight of the world was on his shoulders…again. He was used to shouldering the responsibility by now.

"The sooner I bring back Faith, the better, but if it means saving lives this will have to take precedence."

He didn't like to cede his focus but it couldn't be helped. The spirit was why they brought Deirdre in the first place. She lived up to his boasting and more, drawing him to what he felt was the right conclusion much quicker than he would have come to it on his own. He had to agree with Buffy. Bypassing research mode, for once, was proving to be rather nice. He gave her a grateful smile.

"Perhaps I could take you to lunch and we can get the things we need out and about. What do you say?"

"I'd like that."

Dee took his arm when it was offered and he escorted her around London to the best magic shops hidden away in the city's winding streets. They laughed together so much it was almost like having a day off from the pressure and it certainly did his heart good to see her glow with youth and promise. She had never been meant for their gang. He took her to one of their old haunts, a diner on the north side of the city in a lower district of town. Across the tracks things looked different, but he still knew his way around like the back of his hand.

"Why are we here?"

"Nostalgia, I suppose."

There was a wall of photos on the back wall, all Polaroids taken by the owner. It didn't take him long scanning it to find the one he was looking for. When he saw it his smile faded but that was only because he was struggling to take it in. All of them were crowded in a booth, shoved together and raucous. He looked so much younger then, and Dee looked the same now. She followed his gaze to the photograph and said nothing, tugging him to a booth after a moment.

By the time they came home the sun was setting and Giles felt good, all things considered. It was nice to take a trip down memory lane with someone that knew him best when he was young. Buffy was waiting on the couch, jumping up when they came in.

"Where have you been?"

"Hello, Buffy!" He gave her an affectionate pat on the arm as he came in, draping his jacket over the back of his chair. "Deirdre and I think we have figured out this spirit mystery."

He held up the bag of goods he'd purchased that day in town and let her take and examine it. There were roots and candles, various other trinkets just in case.

"Poltergeists. Nasty buggers."

Dee hung a coat she'd borrowed and started picking up from the morning. Buffy didn't really like the sound of that but as long as the problem was followed by a solution she could deal. It was nice to see him on the calmer side of Apocalypse.

"Tonight we'll take care of this poltergeist and tomorrow we can go back to focusing on finding Faith, alright?"


	9. Rocky Common Ground

"Are you staying somewhere close by?"

"No. My trip didn't really come with hotel reservations. Besides, my money has future dates printed on it."

"You'll have to stay with us, then."

She might have been wrong but to Faith it seemed like a big deal to get that invite even if it meant staying in the less than stellar accommodations they had set up for themselves. From what she knew of him and his fierce need for privacy in the future she suspected that he hadn't changed much. Maybe he didn't mean in his room, with his taste of women what it was, but that meant exposing her to the others and that was a somewhat risky thing.

She really wished Giles had offered up more of the interesting parts of his life before she took this little trip.

"What about the others?"

"What about them?"

It was then that she knew he considered himself to be unequivocally the leader of this gang of mages.

Their arrival home was noticed, the others coming to meet Ripper, wondering where he'd gone so early. Without Deirdre there, which no one really seemed to notice, seeing him bring a girl home that wasn't all over him was a bit of a shock. It was Ethan who spoke first, with Randall and Phillip echoing similar sentiments.

"Who's she?"

"Name's Faith."

No one seemed to be listening to her as they looked to Giles for the official answer. He waved off their concerns with a flip of his hand.

"She'll be staying with us for a while. She's from America."

He said it as if that had some sort of significance that she didn't understand but the nods of the young men seemed to suggest they understood. Ripper took her hand and tugged her from the shabby living room upstairs to his bedroom. She looked around, confused.

"So where am I staying?"

"Here, of course." Her shocked look made him laugh, loud and long. "What's the matter, afraid I'll take advantage?"

"As if you could."

He raised an eyebrow and moved close to her suddenly, wrapped one arm around her waist to tug against his solid body. She felt the press of his muscles against her skin and looked up at his face in surprise. The old Giles would never have been so bold. He cupped her cheek and brought his lips to where they were almost touching hers. Cocky, yes. Dangerous, she was beginning to realize. But sonovabitch there was something almost sexy about it.

"If I wanted you, dove, I could have you."

He let her go and she stumbled back, wondering where those tricks had been hiding on the Watcher for all this time.

"Don't worry. You can sleep on the bed. I'll take the couch."

"I'll take the couch. I don't want to know what's on that bed."

Or the mattress that passed as one. Faith paused, reminded of his current fondness for the opposite sex.

"And if you want to have a sleep over?"

"If I'm not alone I imagine you'll know. I won't stop whether you come in or not."

The Slayer was beginning to wonder if she had not just traveled back in time but had also managed to find some alternate universe where Giles was the impetuous youth and she was appalled by practically everything he said. It was a reality she would not have thought possible before, considering. Role reversal felt strange.

"You're not gonna…?"

"Use every clever little trick I've ever picked up to leave you gasping for breath and wrung through with pleasure?"

GOD DAMNIT.

Faith struggled to keep a straight face as he came close again but this time didn't touch her. The concept that he was someone else in her time just seemed to be an impassable wall in his mind that he could not get past and holy mother of God she was beginning not to care. What was in front of her was hot and self assured, dangerous, and probably full of tricks she suddenly wanted to know about first hand.

He turned away and she let out a soft sigh of relief.

"Wouldn't dream of it, dove."

"Not my name."

"Isn't it?"

She gave him a look. He gave her a smirk. She shook her head.

"There's nothing to be done for you right now. The lads and I are going to a show tonight. They're probably waiting on me now. You're welcome to come, if you can stand the music."

"I'll be fine."

"Alright, come on then."

He and the gang led her through the winding back roads of the city, well away from the tourist bits, to a less seemly part of town. The music had already started and the club seemed full of energy, smoke, and noise. Ripper gave a cheeky look back at her, jostling his way in with the rest of the crowd, not bothering to wait to see if she was coming along. She caught up to him by the bar; the small place was packed from wall to wall. He had a shot glass in hand that she plucked easily and downed much to his disbelief.

"Hey! I earned that," she promised.

"Earned it? How?"

"Putting up with you is enough."

They had to shout to be heard, even as close together as they were. She didn't mind.

"I'm adored by ladies I'll have you know."

"Then you won't have any trouble getting another shot, will you?"

It was her turn to be cheeky, giving him a grin as she wove her way out to the dance floor. People didn't dance to this sort of music so much as they beat each other to a pulp and called it dancing. She felt his eyes on her, even from across the room, and didn't care. It wasn't quite the same as the Bronze but she knew all about the club scene. It wasn't long before she felt other eyes on her as well. A few guys bought her drinks and she flirted, generally making it a point to avoid looking where Ripper was but she could feel, just feel, his eyes glowering at her and her would be suitors.

It was Ethan who found and cornered her, drunk and breathing hard. She was drunk, too, but her eyes darted for Ripper. The one time she wanted him it was a pity that she couldn't find him in the crowd and before she could leave she was caught by the wrist by the mage.

"What are you doing?"

"Wondering what's so all-fire special about you."

"You're going to want to take your hands off me."

"Are you fucking him?"

"Of course not!"

"Then why are you in our house with his attention?"

"Why do you care? Are you jealous?"

His eyes flashed and she had her answer, and also knew that she was a threat to him by invading his space and his relationship with Giles. She mused at that, wondering if he had any idea of the feelings Ethan possessed or would even care if he found out. Her anger flared, though, as he grabbed her arm and shook her slightly, forcing her to look at him.

"I'm protective of my friends."

"I'm not hurting him so get your hands off me!"

Quick as a dart her free hand shot out and struck his nose, breaking it and making him bleed.

"You bitch!"

Magic raced around his hands immediately and she nearly cringed, pretty sure she suspected what they could do. Ethan raised his hand to hit her, and she felt herself preparing for a serious fight, but the blow never fell. A very furious looking Ripper grabbed him from behind and held his arm aloft, unable to swing.

"Outside," he growled ferally. "Both of you."

He quickly ushered them outside away from the club. It was a relief to get into the open air with the music slightly dampened by walls and windows. Faith refused to look like she had done anything wrong but noticed that Ethan wouldn't meet his mate's gaze. His nose was still bleeding, not that he seemed to care about that more than how it hurt his pride.

"Well?" He looked at them both for answers.

"Your boy put his hands on me. I warned him to back off and he didn't, pure and simple."

"What were you doing grabbing her, anyway?"

"You're siding with her, Ripper?" Leave it Ethan to be petulant.

"I'm not siding with anyone."

Ripper knew the inherent strength of a Slayer and knew if she had wanted to, Ethan would be suffering from far worse than a bloody nose. It was amazing to Faith how he could flow so seamlessly into the role of mediator, even in a rebellion. He was born for it. His friend, on the other hand, was proving why he was a dangerous pain in the ass to them in years to come. Magic once more flared to life and this time it went hurtling at the Slayer.

She let out a surprised cry and moved to the side, instincts kicking in, but the magic never reached her. It simply fizzled out in thin air.

"Are you mental? Do you want to bring every copper in the area round here?"

Ripper shoved his companion, his own magic subtle, but there, and she suspected she knew what happened with Ethan's spell. He shoved back, an angry yell loosed from his chest.

"This girl comes out of no where and now you're her whipping boy, Ripper? You're the one that's gone mental, putting an outsider before the gang, before your friends!"

"What the hell is wrong with you? I came out to the show with you lot as planned."

"And don't think I haven't noticed how your eyes have followed her everywhere she went."

"So? I like her ass. My eyes have followed plenty of ladies and you know it."

"Not like this, Ripper."

"Watch yourself, Ethan," he growled and then noticed that the Slayer was no longer with them.

She left once they started talking like she wasn't there. Lovers quarrels weren't for her and honestly, she could find her own way if she needed to. The last thing she came here to do was change the future and it seemed like she was succeeding in doing just that. Faith was half way down the street away from the fight before she heard pounding footfalls to follow. He came up alongside but didn't say anything, just walking in silence for as long as it took for her to break the silence.

"You two work that out?"

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "He's a wanker, but he's my best mate."

"He's some sort of a mate."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"That boy is jealous. Hard core jealous."

"And?"

"You sure you two have kept things strictly professional?"

The tops of his ears colored pink but he gave no other indication that he heard her or planned to answer the question. She shrugged; it really wasn't her business. She didn't make judgments and certainly didn't dare tease him about it. Instead, she changed topic.

"Look, I didn't want to be here and I really don't wanna change the future but I've got the feeling I'm doing it anyway."

"You came to me, remember?"

"Believe me, I remember. I'm beginning to think that was a mistake."

"Now see here, Faith, you can't just come to me and beg for my help and then leave off the moment you get the idea to. I know we can't just keep you here now that I know who you are and where you come from."

"I didn't beg!" Never mind his other comments.

"Close enough."

She sighed. Sticking around once things got complicated was never her method of operation. She was much more comfortable on her own when she knew she was with everyone she could count on. People let her down, often in big ways, but she honestly didn't have a choice unless she wanted to give up being a Slayer and meet him again when they were closer to the same age. Her growl made him grin because he knew he was right.

"You need me, dove."

"Can you stop with that already? And don't ever treat me like I'm not there again. I'm not just one of your mindless drones, alright? You can't rule me."

"I know that. It won't happen again."

She stopped dead in her tracks and turned around slowly to stare at him.

"Come again?"

"You're the Slayer. I know you can handle yourself. I'm sorry."

"You're messing with me, aren't you?"

"No, I'm serious."

She stared hard at him for a few more seconds and felt a warm wave sweep through her. She wasn't sure what it meant but she nodded all the same.

"Ok. Good."

"Good," he agreed.

"I have to patrol. I can meet you later if you want to go smooth things over with Lord Hothead."

"No, he can sort himself out. I'll go with you."

"Yeah?" For a moment it sounded like he was almost eager about that, maybe a Watcher through and through.

"Well you never know. You could need me to save your ass again. Not sure how much longer I'll be inclined to without getting a piece of it for myself."

She groaned, of course it had been too good to be true for a while.

"I'm not sleeping with you."

She started off toward the cemetery.

"But you want to."

Somehow, she couldn't bring herself to deny it this time.


	10. Accomplishment

Giles couldn't help but feel a little nervous. Spirits were tricky entities and the longer this one kept on the more people would die in apparent suicide. The police kept the area marked off, having put together a common location even if they could not fathom the reason for the suicides yet. They did not want to take any chances. That made little difference to the poltergeist and now an armed guard stood at the bridge. As far as he could tell he was just a regular man with a mundane life that did not deserve to get caught in the supernatural crossfire.

"Oh, bugger."

He shook his head, bringing Buffy, Xander, and Deirdre up short.

"What do we do?" The young man frowned. He wanted Faith back, for his own reasons, and the sooner this was done with the sooner they could get on that.

"The only thing we can do." The older man replied.

He had much more experience dealing with policemen than he'd ever let on to his makeshift family. It wasn't just that, though. They needed this man out of the way without hurting him. He had several options but the only one he could think of was –

"Good evening Officer."

He approached slowly, giving him an easy smile. The man, who he estimated to be in his twenties, gave a nod of greeting in return. People probably came to the site quite a bit these days since it had become infamous in the news. Giles played the part, casually looking around the scene, watching for people and cars passing by, who might see him. This was a calculated risk, one he hoped no one would notice.

"You need to move along," he was warned.

"Of course. One thing first, I'm terribly curious."

He turned and used his magic, putting a hand on the cop's shoulder and infusing him with the will to make him sleep. The man slumped, pitching forward into the Watcher's waiting arms. He eased him down to the ground and laid him there, hoping they could act quickly enough that no one would discover the slumbering man or interrupt their work. The spell they had didn't take a lot of time but it did take concentration. He moved with the gang down the slope to the area beneath the bridge where the young man in the paper had died.

"Marcus Willowby, we summon you here!"

He lit a candle while Dierdre spread some herbs across what they believed to be the site of death. She gave it a wide circle, just in case the place where he actually expired was different than what they calculated. Sure enough, a small circle behind Giles started to glow and he turned to face it, readying himself. Buffy looked on worriedly, knowing that for all her skill she was useless at the moment. This was something better left to the magic users among them. Both she and Xander were just witnesses to this rite.

"Marcus Willowby we summon you here so that you may cause no more harm!" Whether Marcus had managed to already possess a host for the night was uncertain but Buffy's cry as she glanced up confirmed a large fear. The police officer, the one he put to sleep, was standing on the wrong side of the rail, holding loosely to it. The Slayer took off like a shot, scrambling up the slope to deal with that and Giles cursed, realizing only now that the young cop fit the pattern and he left him vulnerable to intrusion.

"Don't do this, Marcus," he said evenly. "I know your life was cut short but that is no reason to end that man's life. He's innocent, as you were."

Which was precisely the point. He just needed to buy time, let Buffy handle the situation.

"I summon you here to be among us. I summon you to send you Beyond, to where the dead dwell. I summon your spirit. Stand before me!"

He dropped the candle and ignited the herbs around the glowing circle, a pungent smell and a quick, bright flame rose up in the night in a flash. The poltergeist started to appear even as Buffy was wrestling with the body it possessed above. It was thrashing, both in an effort to complete its mission but also to resist the inexorable pull toward that blasted ring of power and the man bidding it to go Beyond. Giles hardly wanted to presume as there were so many places a soul might travel after death that it was hard to tell just by looking. The best he could do was send it Beyond and trust the soul to find its way.

"I summon you, Marcus Willowby." He began again in a soft, authoritative tone that the gang knew well. "I command you to appear within this circle of power. I demand that you release your hold of the body you possess."

The form began to solidify and wavered, fighting every inch it was forced to give with otherworldly moans.

"Come to me, spirit! Come to me and be released into the Beyond!"

Light flared again and he shielded his eyes as it fully came into being. A quick glance up found Buffy hauling the cop's body over the railing, laying him back on the ground. He was starting to rouse.

Bollocks.

"I bid you to go into the Beyond and put your restless spirit at peace."

Deirdre laid a hand on his shoulder, reassuring him. Giles held out his hand, directing the flow of magic to open a rift to the Beyond, a portal for the spirit to use to find its eternal place. Whether by choice or kicking and screaming, this poltergeist would be moving on. They just didn't have a lot of time. When he saw the telltale of flashing lights above not of his magic he knew their time was up.

"I command you to go into the Beyond!"

A pull began within the portal he opened, inexorably tugging the spirit toward the rift. He heard a scream and saw Deirdre being pulled toward it as well. She went wide eyed, watching everyone else unaffected by the pull. He reached for her, clasping her hand with both of his. He yelled and felt Xander coming up to help, grabbing Deirdre and tugging her away from the portal as well. Marcus' soul, however, was not as lucky. It had no one to tether it to the land of the living. With a scream that defied human experience he was sucked in and vanished, leaving the portal to close. Debris was scattered around them and the three of them fell together in a heap, the pull gone as suddenly as it sprung up.

"So, I'm dead."

Giles blanched, the color draining from his already pale face. That was information he had hoped to keep from her for the duration of her stay. It wouldn't help anything for her to find out. And yet, here they were.

"Yes."

"I don't want to know."

"Alright. I didn't know that portal would affect you. You're corporeal, from the past."

"But in this time I am dead. I should be dead. The Beyond doesn't discriminate."

"Clearly." He shook his head. "Bugger me, Dee, I'm sorry."

"No, it's not your fault. I'm…I'm fine."

"I know you're not."

"I don't have much of a choice, do I? Being upset won't change things. Besides, we need to focus on bringing Faith back now that the poltergeist is dealt with."

He nodded sympathetically, not able to disagree with anything she said. It didn't feel right, but at the moment she was right: they didn't have much of a choice.

"Alright. Let's get home."

The four of them wended through the town toward his home, relieved that one trial was over but quiet for the other task that lay ahead of them. Willow was still to be tended as well and, secretly, Giles was beginning to be very worried over her condition.


	11. What's It Like?

He took her farther into London than he had last time. They walked what felt like forever until he stopped in front of massive iron gates that stretched up to points ten feet over her head. She tried the handle, frowning as the gate wiggled but didn't open. It was locked. Cemeteries weren't somewhere she was dying to get into, and she turned to ask him why he brought her here only to find he was gone.

"Ripper?"

She spotted him on the other side of the gate, moving into the cemetery. She hadn't even heard him climb, let alone land.

"Damn."

She climbed up two steps on the gate, hopping to the stone wall before vaulting over to land neatly, and quietly, on the ground. He smirked. She rolled her eyes and huffed.

It was hard to think that this was the same man she'd flirted with when they met. One sided as it was, he'd never officially said no to her advances and she'd never really pushed them. If she'd had any idea this was what lay beneath the tweed she might have tried harder to break through his very staunchly proper exterior. She could only imagine what he could offer if he tapped into the confidence of his youth with the knowledge and experience of every one of his current years. It was enough to make her shiver, a gesture not entirely unnoticed by her companion.

"Cold?"

His tone suggested he didn't think so.

"No, I'm fine. Let's go."

This was clearly an old place. The tombstones that she glanced at were a hundred years old or more, some of them bent at odd angles like some scene in a horror movie. If there was evil in London, it had to be here. She kept her senses open, walking alongside him through the rows of stones. There was an elephant in the proverbial room and though it wasn't any of her business she couldn't help but ask.

"You know he's in love with you, right?"

Not that Faith had any idea what that felt like. She'd never been in love with anyone in her entire life. She glanced at him and saw him frown, pausing in his footsteps.

"Are you in love with him, too?"

"No." He shook his head, but didn't deny it as hard as she thought he might. "It's…complicated."

That was a layer she hadn't expected. Bisexual Giles, go figure.

"How complicated?"

The way he acted probably very complicated.

"He's my best mate. We've…we've known each other a long time."

"Look, you don't have to- "

"It's nothing serious."

"I don't think he got that memo."

"I know. That's probably my fault. It's not all the time but things have happened between us and it became more than I ever expected. I didn't want him to get the wrong idea about me, about what's been happening. He's been touchy since I pulled away from him. That's why he came after you tonight, I wouldn't wonder."

"He's afraid I'll take his place?"

"He doesn't understand why you're here. I can't exactly tell him the truth. It's not usual that I have girls…"

"Giving repeat performances?"

"Something like that."

He gave her a devilish grin, charming and dangerous at once.

"I feel you on that. I'm not exactly known as a repeat performance kind of a girl myself. No strings takes the complicated out of caring."

"I, ah, feel you."

She laughed, finding that she didn't mind the conversation as much as she would with the grown up version of him. She doubted her Giles would ever be so open about his past, which was strange, considering. Honesty was not something that he owed her, but maybe it was nice to have someone to talk to about it that wasn't going to stick around. She wasn't involved, after all.

"What's it like being a Slayer?"

"What do you mean?"

"You know what I mean. What's it like to have all that power inside you?"

"Well, you're not exactly shy with the magic."

"That's not the same."

"I've told you before."

"No you didn't, not really."

"It's hard to explain unless you feel it. Everything goes quiet and it feels like you can do anything. That rush goes through you and there's nothing else that exists in the world but you and the fight and that moment when you go in for the kill, when you know you've done your job, it's worth living for."

It was certainly not as easy as she described and the rush was almost like a drug, taking over each and every time. She needed the kill for completion. She needed the struggle and the pain. It was what she was built for but no one could understand that but another Slayer, only Buffy was too conflicted to make peace with it. At least, that's what she always thought.

"It's complicated."

"No, I think I understand what you mean."

"You do?"

"Maybe not exactly but I know what it's like to feel something inside of you that you need to feed. It gets to be an addiction, just to reach that high."

She nodded a little.

It seemed like this place was pretty quiet. Occasionally, she found, with old yards like this the ground was consecrated and vampires didn't tend to show up much. Besides, this city wasn't a Hellmouth and wasn't going to have the same level of activity as Sunnydale. It was good, she guessed, but it left her itching for that fight he never let her have with Ethan. Faith moved to take a seat on a standing sarcophagus, leaning back to look at the moon while still sitting up.

"You're a good Watcher," she commented, seemingly out of the blue. "At least, you are to Buffy."

"But not to you?"

"I don't think you know what to do with me."

"I know what to do with you, Faith."

"You do?"

She leaned up and found him right in front of her, though she hadn't heard him move. He caught her cheek with one hand, sliding the other around her waist. His eyes sparkled in the moonlight and she didn't pull away despite how close he was. He was between her legs, pressed close but not too close to her body. Her breath caught as he searched her eyes, feeling her heart thump wildly in her chest. Faith closed her eyes and leaned forward a little bit, offering him the kiss it looked like he was angling for.

She opened her eyes again when she felt him moving away from her, turning his back and leaving her unkissed.

"We should go back to the flat. It's getting late."

She gave him a confused, pained look that he didn't look back to notice.

"Ripper?"

He paused to look back, shaking his head and moving forward again leaving her behind if she didn't follow quickly. She tried not to react but her cheeks burned with an embarrassed blush that she tilted her face down to hide. They crossed town in silence. She kept waiting for him to explain but he never did and she didn't ask. When they went to bed he left her alone in the room, putting a new blanket on the mattress for her and excusing himself for the rest of the night.

"I'm taking you home tomorrow. There might be some books in the library that can help me find a way to get you home. The sooner the better, right?"

"Look, if something happened tonight that-"

"Goodnight, Faith."

He closed the door and left her alone in his room wondering just what the fuck happened. She lay awake in the darkness for a long time thinking about it before finally falling into a shallow, fitful sleep.


	12. Dancing With Ghosts

Giles dropped into bed as soon as he got home, the days of sleeplessness catching up to him as Dee promised it would. He moaned gratefully as he sunk into his bed, feeling it hug his worn body and accept him into it for comfort. He dropped off almost immediately, snoring softly as he lay there in the darkness. No one dared disturb him and gave a wide berth to the room he was in so when he started to dream, moaning in his sleep, no one was there to wake him.

"Faith?"

He saw her walking down the street beside his younger self and he rushed forward to greet her, calling her name. Any information at all that she could give him would help bring her home but she seemed oblivious to his calls, talking to his younger self instead. Like a ghost he could only observe their interactions and could not be part of them. It was frustrating, but lacking any other choice he followed along, taking advantage of his dream state.

Ethan…

He quirked an eyebrow, wondering why they were talking about Ethan. Then it hit him. The memory exploded into his mind as if it had just happened, instead of being several decades ago. Ethan's jealousy, their fight, Faith finding out…

"Shut up!" he urged softly of his counterpart. "What the bloody hell do you think you're doing?"

But, no, he didn't seem to want to listen to reason, talking freely about his brief relationship with Ethan. He hadn't been ready for anything romantically serious and had, at that time anyway, considered himself a lover of the ladies. Anything else was too complicated and he was already in serious doubt of who he was. Besides, Ethan was too different from him even then and though their ambitions were matched not much else about them was.

It had started with a summoning ritual they performed. He'd found a demon that fed on arousal and they'd summoned him using Dee as their instrument of pleasure. He'd been cocky, letting Ethan goad him, trying to outdo his best friend until they'd wrung her through and she was completely spent. It was passionate; the power they got in return was strong and overwhelming. When he'd reached for Ethan after Deirdre was passed out it had just seemed natural at the time.

Their trysts were always secret and intense; no one else had ever known. Some nights when he'd struck out or was too drunk he moved toward him and it was like a storm. No, not just when he was drunk or lacked another alternative. Some nights he sought him out on his own just because that was what he wanted. He knew even as he was caught up in it that he was playing with fire and he wasn't afraid of burning. He didn't fear anything in any other aspect of his life, why in this?

But it was him that pulled away first, not wanting to care for Ethan any more than he already did. Him that said what they were doing was only a game, nothing more. He ignored the pain in his friend's eyes and told him that they had to end things, that it would never be more than it was, some experiment that wasn't to be trusted. He didn't know how to love and even if he did he didn't think that this was the right person for it. No one would tie him down. No one would tame him.

Giles shook his head at the memories.

Even though he remembered things as they happened, he had no idea where they were going. He passed through the cemetery gates and watched them wandering, listening intently to their conversation. Why was he being so honest with her, anyway? He tilted his head as he saw himself unburdened by his confessions and then with earnest curiosity as he questioned her about the condition of being a Slayer.

"Oh, Christ."

He saw the moment as if it was frozen. They were so close to one another and he was pressed against her body. He could almost feel it, watching himself from the outside. He remembered it as if it was crystal, holding his breath. No matter the time it seemed this Slayer was capable of capturing his attention. He remembered how it had felt to hold her that way, how confusing and strange it had been for him for a multitude of reasons, not the least of which was the fact that he actually started to see her as a person and was interested in knowing more.

Even though he knew how it was going to end he almost dared himself to lean forward and capture that kiss, only letting out his breath as he pulled away from her. It was the worst thing, knowing that by the end she was going to be gone and he was going to be changed. She had wanted it and he let the moment slip through his fingers for fear and pride.

His younger self didn't see the look of confusion she gave him but he did, marking the color that rose to her cheeks. He cursed his foolish pride, explaining to his younger self all of the reasons for and against this. Honestly, he should be encouraging caution, not that it mattered what his older self thought, but he couldn't help but wonder at the opportunity of it and the impact it could have on his life, memories yet to be discovered.

He watched as he silently tended to the bed, pausing at the door when she tried to question him, with disappointment as he shut the door without explaining.

Home.

Oh, good Lord! He actually meant to take her home! Perhaps Faith didn't understand what that meant but he did, seeing that he was willing to brave his family for a chance to help her. In the only way he could he was showing that he cared and he felt a strange tightness in his chest to realize it. He watched as he settled in another room and tried to fall to sleep in one of the chairs, a habit he was now painfully used to.

He woke with a start, sitting up immediately and groping for his glasses in the darkness. He put them on but nothing came into focus in his sleep addled mind.

Was any of that real, or not?

He ran a hand through his unruly hair, struggling to focus and even his breathing. He remembered all of it perfectly, each and every moment of the dream as if he'd just lived it. He remembered, God, the sparkle of her eyes and the brilliance of her smile, even the smell of her hair: details he would never have allowed himself to notice. It wasn't done; she was just a child when they met. He never would have allowed himself to think of anything untoward.

And then he caught himself remembering how soft her lips looked and wondering how they might taste.

Cursing, he sucked in a breath and tried to master any more of those thoughts before they ran away with him. It wouldn't matter when she returned, even if she came to truly care for him it was only in the past with a man he no longer was. Anything else was speculation and a waste of his time. He needed to focus on bringing her home, not on things that may or may not have happened in his past.

He shakily got up and got dressed, ignoring his body when it told him that his sleep was less than restorative. At least it gave him one good idea. The family library had far more in it than his personal collection ever would. Each Giles added to it, passed down from generation to generation to aid with the responsibilities of being a Watcher. If there was a text that could help her, and keep both versions on the same page, so to speak, it would be there.

The family house was empty now, but he had a key and it was only a short drive to the outskirts of London. He hadn't been inside since his father passed away, years after his retirement. It really was like dancing with ghosts the whole way around and some of the memories, he felt, were better left on their shelves. He got up and looked for the envelope in his desk that held the deed and the key, given to him in trust once his father's will was executed.

He turned the key over in his hands, reading the script on the front of the envelope. Whatever lay before him, it was going to be a long day.


	13. Everyone Has Pain

Faith was up and dressed by the time he came to wake her in the morning. She even made up the bed, or at least straightened it, for lack of something else to occupy her. He tossed her some clothes without a word and though they weren't exactly her style they were clean and fit her. She didn't have much room to complain. He gave her an appraising look before nodding and she really wished he'd just say something. It didn't even seem like he was willing to look her in the eye and that made her wonder. She'd never been confused or insecure like this before and didn't care for it much.

Once they got out the door she forced his hand, stopping where she was on the sidewalk and refusing to move until he stopped and turned around.

"What's the meaning of this?"

"I'm not going anywhere until you talk to me."

"I'm trying to help you. If you've suddenly decided you don't want my help, well, I tried."

"That's not what this is about."

"I KNOW!"

She took a step back and his explosion got the attention of a few pedestrians passing them by. He reined himself in, she could see his muscles tensing as he mastered them, turning his face into his usual mask of cocky indifference. He took a few steps toward her, grabbing her arm at the wrist, trying to urge her forward.

"We need to get to my house. I'd rather we be there and gone before my parents come home."

"Wait, what?" Faith let that knowledge wash over her for a second. "Your parents? We're going to your parents' house?"

"Well I'm not bloody going to Council with this, am I?"

"Jesus…" She shook her head. Before she was consciously aware of it she was walking, him leading her by the wrist until she yanked it from his grasp. He didn't falter in his steps and she didn't stop again. They took a bus across town, sitting side by side in awkward silence. Gone was the honest man she'd been with the night before, the one she had wanted to kiss her if she was honest with herself. In his place was a sullen stranger.

They got off in a rich part of town and though she'd heard Giles was from money she was not prepared for the large and lovely house he stopped them in front of.

"Father is at the Council and mother is probably at one of her many social groups. If they come home while we're here let me do all the talking."

Not mom, not dad. Mother and Father. That told Faith a lot. He may not have agreed with them or had a close relationship but he did have some measure of respect. She nodded, wondering just what the hell she was going to do. He was the one with the book smarts, not her. She'd never been very good with research even when she'd tried. She had to believe that the Watcher was underneath his skin somewhere. Those skills never went away.

He led her inside and she paused in the entry, looking around in wonder. It was prettier and more proper than she'd ever seen before. The foyer was very demure and classically decorated with marble beneath her feet and paintings of ancestors probably older than she could ever trace in her own lineage lining the hallway in front of them. She didn't belong in the world of the rich and never had. Her father was a brick layer that left as soon as she could walk and her mother was a raging alcoholic that had never been much use in her life. She'd never had any of this, not one single bit of his home life, though they were matched in feeling like their family let them down.

"Don't worry. It doesn't rub off on everyone."

She looked up, realizing that he was trying to comfort her.

"It's fine," she lied.

"I don't belong here either, Faith."

She nodded, though she didn't believe him. She knew who he grew into being and knew that some part of him, at least, still craved this kind of thing: proper tea time, a quiet home with books and tidy surroundings. The rich knew how to be rich, she found, and though he lived more modestly than this in Sunnydale the manner was the same. He couldn't wash the British out of him anymore than she could choose to stop being the Slayer.

"Where's the library?"

He motioned down the hall, leading the way until they were stopped by a servant. Faith did a double take, of course they had servants. Ripper stopped short in front of him, a tall man in a butler's uniform, presumably the butler. Faith had no idea, she was just going off of what she saw in movies. He probably had a name like Phillips, Anderson, or something else terribly British. He looked the part with coat tails and closely kempt salt and pepper hair.

"Bitterman."

"Sir."

"We're going to the library."

"I don't think your father would approve of that with…guests."

"Regardless, I'm going and she's coming with me."

"Yes, sir."

The tall butler stood aside and let him go, presumably powerless to stop him. She waited until the door was shut before she addressed what just happened.

"What was that all about?"

"My father's man. He comes from the Council, a sort of referral service for households with supernatural secrets. He agrees with him, when it comes to my life."

"Jesus," she laughed. "You really are rich, aren't you?" As if she was only just now realizing that fact.

"I'm not rich. My parents are rich and have chosen to withhold my grandmother's trust until I join the Council."

"Then why don't you? Do you have any idea how much all that money could provide you?"

"What good is money if you're dead?"

"I wouldn't know. Never had money and I'll be dead pretty soon, if history tells a true story."

He looked at her, a strange apologetic look on his face briefly.

"Anyway, money can't buy happiness."

"Spoken like a rich person; like hell it can't! Can you honestly tell me you're happy now?"

"I'm free."

"That's not the same as happy."

"What is happiness, Faith? Do you think I'd be happier locked away in some mausoleum for the rest of my life with a bunch of stuff shirts that either sit around waiting for some girl to die to feel useful or else die in her place?"

"Well, you-"

"Tell me. Where you come from am I married? Do I have a girlfriend, children? Do I make use of all this money? Hell, do I look happy to you there?"

"No, but-"

"Well there you have it."

"That's not fair."

"Explain to me how it's not fair."

"Oh, you mean I can actually speak now?" His scowl was her only warning and she shot him back an annoyed look before continuing. "You have a family where I come from. Buffy, Willow, Xander: they're your family. I don't know much about happy one way or another, God knows I'm not good at it, but I know you feel useful. You like what you do and Buffy's the oldest Slayer in a long time."

She sighed, knowing that conversation had gone far past where it ought to be. She put her hands on her hips and didn't back down when he stared at her.

"You want me spilling secrets about the future, fine." She took a deep breath. "You're a damn good Watcher. You like tea time and books and you say stuffy words like appalling and indecorous. I don't know how often you have sex but I do know you enjoy your scotch and you are so damn proud of Buffy nearly all the time that it makes me hate her."

He didn't miss the jealousy in her eyes or the way her fists were balled. He didn't miss how rigid she looked standing there or how her shoulders trembled slightly.

"Where's your Watcher?"

"I don't have one. I did in the beginning but he was killed by this ancient vampire. The replacement used me to get her hands on some powerful gauntlet thing and the third one wanted to…well, he wasn't really mine, anyway. He ran off to LA in the end."

"And you're not part of this…family?"

"Never really was. I'm just another gun in the army."

"What does your family say about all this?"

"I don't know. I don't have one."

"No one?"

"There's somebody, a friend, but he's in the life, too."

"And what about me?"

"Like I said – I don't think you ever knew what to do with me and I never gave you much of a chance to try."

He didn't respond as he crossed the room to a glass decanter on a small tray next to his father's desk. He poured himself a stiff drink and drained it in a single gulp before pouring a second and offering it wordlessly to her. She took it and did the same, shuddering at the welcome burn down the back of her throat. He went to the shelves and began looking through them as if they hadn't just had that conversation. He pulled a few texts, setting them on the table.

"These are the ones that might be pertinent to your predicament."

He wasn't thinking of that as much as he was turning her words over in his head. He had a good life where she came from. He had a family that he chose, a hero Slayer. But her own life seemed so…bleak.

"Don't do that."

"Do what?"

"I know that look. Don't you dare feel sorry for me."

"I don't."

He handed her a book, expecting her to know what she was doing or looking for. She was about to protest but never got the chance because as soon as he opened the book her was absorbed. She pretended to be studying, browsing a book written with words that made terribly little sense to her. He made it through two books before he noticed, taking the one from in front of her and giving her a look that said plainly that she wasn't helping anything.

"Ah, here it is."

"You found something?" Thank God.

He pointed to a page in the book in front of him and she read through it without really understanding. She shrugged when he looked expectantly at her. She wasn't stupid, but magic was not in her wheelhouse. Whatever the book had to say on the matter was for people that understood magic and the laws that govern it.

"It suggested that there was an exchange. We must have been using magic, a summoning, at the exact same time you were and it linked to yours, through me."

"We were trying to summon Deirdre."

"Deirdre?" He looked confused, then all of a sudden he lit up. "Dee! Good Lord, I'd forgotten her. The magic linked through her, then. Remarkable."

"How do you do that?"

"Mechanically, you being here took her place. The magic probably masked her presence by tamping her down in the minds of people that knew she was meant to be here."

"Do you think she's done the same where I come from?"

"I don't know. I hope not or putting you back will be damn near impossible."

"Why?"

He got up and got another glass of scotch though it was still early in the day. He didn't hesitate, setting the glass on the table as he responded.

"Because in order to put you back both sides will have to cast the same spell at the exact same time."

A curse escaped her lips.

"Rupert, what are you doing? Who's this?"

Her head whipped toward the door to see nearly a copy of the man she knew. The jaw was a little narrower and the eyes weren't the right shade of green but after all that they were remarkably similar. She felt him stiffen more than she saw it, flinching by his side because he did.

"Father." He confirmed. "I expect Bitterman called you to warn you that the prodigal son had returned."

"It doesn't matter that he called. I'm not going to assume that you've come to your senses so I would like to know why you're here, with a companion."

"Her name is Faith."

"Faith, then. Why are you here and in my supply of scotch? You aren't dabbling in dark magic again, are you?"

"Dabbling, Father, please." He scoffed. "You never could take me seriously."

"I'll take you seriously when you agree to fulfill your obligations. This isn't a life you simply turn your back on."

"What obligations? I didn't ask to be born into this life. I wasn't even given a choice in the matter. You made it very clear what you expected and nothing else was to be entertained."

"Do not make a scene, Rupert," his father responded tightly.

"Ripper!" He roared back. "My name is Ripper and I won't be some puppet for the Council no matter how pleased it will make you."

"I don't know anyone named Ripper."

"Clearly," the other agreed, taking Faith's hand. "We were just leaving."

"Leave the book, Rupert."

He slammed the one he had in his hand down on the table, making Faith jump at the sound. He yanked her out of the room, deliberate brushing his father as he passed. Bitterman stood at the end of the hall and she felt him balling his fist before he let go of her hand. She moved in front of him, reaching out to stop his fist before it rocketed toward the man.

"Don't. It's not worth it."

He looked at her, hard and bitter. She saw the pain there, too but terribly well-hidden to someone who didn't know intimately well what hidden pain looked like. His arm dropped and he gave a disgusted sigh.

"To think I cared about you when I was a child."

"You're breaking your family's heart, Sir. I only mean for you to rejoin your place."

"You don't know what my place is."

He pushed open the door and slammed it behind him, rushing down the steps and toward the street. Only once they got a mile away did he slow, finally coming to stop at a bus stop.

"I'm getting tossed."


	14. What's Best

Faith moved alongside him.

"That was pretty bad, but I don't think getting drunk it gonna help anything."

"It will help me," he assured. "There's no talking to my father. With him there's only one thing to do, only one way to be, and that's it."

"He's your dad."

"Is he? He wasn't my dad when he sat me down at ten years old and told me exactly what was planned for me without caring what it was I wanted. He wasn't family when he kicked me out of our house and cut me off for wanting to live a life of my own."

"Believe me, I know how bad it is to have someone come into your life and tell you exactly how it's going to go without any thought to what you wanted."

Though for Faith she'd had no idea what she wanted to do. A future was not something that was ever given consideration considering her poor grades and deplorable home life. It was just something she never assumed she'd have and for good reason. At best she would have ended up a waitress at some diner. At worst she could have ended up like her mother. And David had ended up as something of a father to her, the only lasting stable relationship in her life and that was shattered when he was murdered right in front of her.

"It's not the same."

"How's it not?"

"You got power in your destiny."

"And? That power cost me a good fifty years on my lifespan."

He quieted, nodding.

"And if I was never called I still knew what went bump in the night. My life was changed that night David took me out patrolling for the first time."

"You couldn't close your eyes."

"Nope."

"I know how that feels. Once he explained what I was, what our purpose was and everything that it entailed I couldn't close my eyes either. The world grew more sinister, only I didn't see myself as a hero."

He started running that night. He no longer pictured himself as a fighter pilot to bring glory to England in the off chance of war. He didn't see himself as a grocer, either, with a pleasant but steady life. He saw the world closing in on him and he started running, fighting, wanting to do anything but fulfill that purpose. Even as his father tried to prepare him for what was to come he rebelled. He was just powerless to do anything before he was old enough to leave, when things came to a head on his eighteenth birthday.

He led Faith into a small, quiet pub on the wrong side of town.

"Oi! Liam, two pints and two shots of whiskey."

"Oh, no, I'm not drinking with you."

"Who said it was for you?"

The bartender slid the shots across the bar and then filled the pint glasses with a dark ale. Ripper took both shots without hesitating, laying a couple quid down on the bar before taking both glasses and escorting her to a table in the corner. It was hardly necessary to hide; they were alone in the bar. He'd known Liam since he was old enough to drink and he brought most of his business here, especially when he wanted to be alone to brood.

He slid a pint glass across to her.

"C'mon. This isn't going to do anyone any good."

"I don't know what you're talking about. I feel better already."

"Sure, until the buzz wears off and you still hear his words echoing in your head."

"I don't hear a thing," he growled.

"Oh yeah? Is that why you're drinking?"

He had been taking a drink but slammed his pint glass on the table when she spoke, ale sloshing out of one side.

"If you're not going to be any fun you can't be here."

"I'm plenty of fun; I'm just not willing to sit back and watch your pity party."

"Then leave!"

"No."

"I don't need a babysitter."

"Apparently you do. Yeah, you know what? Your life sucks and your dad went about it entirely the wrong way. But maybe beneath all that concern is a man that just wants what's best for his son. I don't know much about how dads are supposed to act. The only thing I had that came close was my Watcher, David, and he died before I could really feel what that was like."

Three years with someone that really loved her would never seem like enough time.

He ignored what she said about his father, finding it easier to talk about her life. She seemed much more open with her pains and disappointments than he was. He wondered what that was like, to be able to be completely and openly honest with someone he knew cared about him. For all his friends there wasn't one among their number that he trusted with his innermost thoughts.

Turning his attention back to her and her Watcher he shook his head.

"He wasn't supposed to get that close."

"Yeah, well, he did. I'm glad he did. Those were the hardest three years of my life being trained and fighting but I never felt more safe."

"And what about this Buffy?"

She hesitated. "She loves you. I mean, she never says it and neither do you but she does." Her eyes raised to meet his. "And so do you."

"Doesn't she have a family of her own?"

"She does, I guess, but aren't you worried what all this knowledge is going to do to you? To the future?"

"We're well past the point where we can be concerned about that. I'll have to fix it on the back end, I s'pose. Erase our memories so we don't alter anything unwittingly."

"Yeah, maybe it's better that way."

He was destined to forget her. The realization that they were very similar did her no good. These strange feelings in her heart didn't help her any. She looked away, moving to order her own shot. She didn't have any money but Liam said it was on the house, anyway. Ripper was one of his regular and best customers and had helped him with a small demon infestation a few years back. It saved his business so he let him slide on some of his drinks. Usually Ripper insisted on paying anyway so a pretty lady in his company could get the use of his tab.

She brought the shot back to the table and took it, picking up her pint glass afterward much to her companion's approval.

"There's a girl." He murmured with a smile.

"If you can't beat em -" she lifted her glass.

"Join em." He lifted his and clinked his mug against hers.


	15. Breakthroughs and Secrets

Giles woke up with a lingering sense of dread, though he couldn't pinpoint its origin. He knew he needed to follow the clues laid out in his dreams and brave his family home for a chance at bringing Faith back to her proper time. He hadn't been to the historic brownstone since his father passed away nearly a year ago now. The idea of facing the phantoms there was not something he relished. The mix of memories were some of his best and worst moments. Everything that he would become was wrapped in the walls of that place. The memory of his dream and the confrontation lingered, along with the spiraling self-doubt it cast within him and the choices he made to dull such sharp aches. He could have told his father he was helping a Slayer. He could have explained the situation to him and perhaps the elder Giles might have been proud.

His face drooped with those thoughts, his eyes clouding a bit as he grabbed his coat. The grey sky overhead threatened rain and reflected his mood rather nicely as he crossed town in the tube. He had they key in his pocket and it got infinitely heavier in his hand when he went to go use it, raising it to slide into the lock. Despite that, it turned easily once inside. The door swung open with a quiet whine, revealing the all too familiar interior. Sun streaked the light maple floors making the natural grain in the wood almost gleam. He took a slow, deep breath and looked around. Most of the furniture was covered in cloth drapes, waiting for the cleaners that visited once a month. Already the dust was showing on flat surfaces, dulling the wood his family preferred. Generations of Giles contributed to the collection he inherited.

Memories haunted him; everywhere he turned they played out before his eyes like shadows to relive his life in this house. He saw an eight year old version of himself sliding down the bannister and an older, more rebellious version exchanging harsh words with his father before storming out the door to go meet up with Ethan or whoever had his interest. For so many years he took pride in making his father as upset as possible, alienating himself from the Council and from his destiny.

His eyes misted as he replayed their last phone call. "I am proud of you, Rupert." The words echoed in his head in his dad's rich tenor; the thought of it made his eyes mist with tears even now. It was the explosion of the Council building in London that took him, though he hadn't been the same since heart failure claimed his mother a few years before. After that, like his son, the elder Giles had thrown himself back into work to compensate for the unwelcome feelings he harbored.

He moved down the hallway toward the library to retrieve what he came for. The thought his younger self had was actually rather brilliant, picking out a book on magical theory, rather than a spellbook. The theorist that wrote the book took magical practices that were unachievable or simply taboo and expounded on how they might work in a magically advanced world. At the time they were simply ideas, unworkable, but Giles was relatively sure with his determination he might be able to take those singular ideas and turn them into a spell that could transcend time. No one did such things if they were sane because of the millions of things that could go wrong. At the moment, however, he lacked any other options and had to grasp at what straws he could.

"Why don't we just do the spell again, only in reverse?" Buffy had asked him very early on.

"It's not that simple," he explained. "We were not intending to bring Deirdre here in the first place. The exact circumstances of the magic might not be possible to recreate and, if they are, they may not manifest the same result. It's not safe. What happened before was an accident."

He needed something that could be performed by one person that would do nothing but the intended effect. It was too early for scotch but he poured himself a tumbler of it anyway, settling at the library table with a writing tablet and a pen. Save for the silence it was the exact place he'd been for the past few days and he was usually resigned to study when there was a crisis to be averted. The quiet was welcome, anyway, and though he could do so he wasn't comfortable taking the book out of the library.

Half a tumbler and an hour later Giles felt like he was reasonably reacquainted with the text. Some of the theories were still too unrealistic to be of any use but there were a few bread crumbs to follow to try to find his way home. He wrote furiously for another few hours, putting together a spell made entirely of other spell components like a time-rifting Frankenstein's creation. If he could work it out the spell should be able to be cast without a full circle and fulfill the intended desire. The only rub to his plan was that he and his counterpart needed to enact the ritual at the exact same time. However, if it could be pulled off, the spell would take only what it needed and deposit only what was due and nothing more. It wasn't foolproof, but it was the best shot they had by far if he wanted to avoid a fate like Willow's.

The thought made his heart twinge; the poor girl. If they managed to right the universe, she would be his next focus.

When he finished for the afternoon, his second glass of scotch was a distant memory and he leaned back in his leather chair. His mind churned with ways that he could communicate with his younger self. Living these memories every night appeared to be a way to keep track of what Faith was doing, but was not a two way street. Without notifying Ripper of his idea and giving him the spell to perform, there was no hope in bringing Faith back to the present. So far, he was only a nightly spectator in his past actions, ones that had not happened before but unfolded before him as if they had always been. He knew it wasn't real before, and yet it was not, only twenty or so years in the past. It made his head ache.

There was a reason he had opted not to study quantum mechanics.

Weary, he called a cab for the ride home, ignoring the questions as he crossed the threshold. He felt like his bones were much too small for his body, weak and sagging as he moved through the house. Had he been this tired before he left? He waved off Buffy's concern and Dee's question. He shook his head to offers of tea or aspirin. The only thing he wanted was a long shower and a comfortable bed. Both of which he had half an hour later. A knock on the door brought him around to waking much sooner than he would have preferred and his eyes opened with a quiet, desperately sad groan.

"Come in."

It was Buffy that opened the door and came to perch on the foot of his bed. Still dressed but sufficiently rumpled for the, he glanced sorrowfully at the clock, hour he'd been asleep he tried to look coherent enough to carry on a conversation.

"Is something the matter?" She gave him a significant look and he tried not to let the heavy sigh that tried to sound escape him. "Something else?"

"You, I guess?"

"Me?" An eyebrow quirked. "I have been working my hardest to try to resolve this situation."

"I get that; I am fully on board that train. For the last few days I just get the feeling that there's something wrong that you won't tell me."

"This is a trying time for all of us."

"I know it is, it's just…" She looked down at her hands and frowned. "What aren't you telling me?"

"Buffy, I promise I have told you everything of importance."

"That's not everything."

"In case you can't see," he gestured to the area immediately around him, "I'm pushing myself to the brink of exhaustion to be able to rescue Faith from the past. Magic and my ability to be awake and function have their limits. I would rely on you lot a bit more but these theories, the sheer mechanics of the spell and what has to be done aren't something I can ask you to handle."

"Yeah, but -"

"Buffy, please."

"I'm not trying to be the Giles police, I promise; I'm just saying that today, for example, you didn't even tell anyone where you were going and you were gone all day."

"I went to my parent's house across town. There were books in their library I needed. I'm sorry I didn't think to leave a note but I will say that the quiet there was welcome."

"We're quiet," she returned, a slight edge of petulance to her tone. His look had her frowning deeper, shaking her head. "Quiet enough."

"It is less a comment on you and Xander as it is on the task at hand. Pulling someone from time and space in exchange for another is not only complicated, it's dangerous. And now I need to figure out how to cast it without a proper circle with the energy of just one caster."

"Use me, my energy. I have plenty of it to give."

"I'll not risk you."

"What's the risk? I trust you. If it helps you bring Faith home then I'm down for that, too."

Giles watched her silently and thoughts of the things he knew and she did not swirling through his head.


	16. The Dam Breaks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you have remained with me thus far, I thank you. If you are enjoying what you read, please let me know. A warning - this chapter is exactly as it is titled and, though important, it's almost exclusively sex. You were warned...

Faith woke up with a headache, strewn naked across the mattress with a sheet covering her body. She groaned, putting her hands to her head to try to hold it in place so the pounding would cease. Blessedly the window was mostly boarded over and only let in a limited amount of light. Even so, she couldn't bear to look directly at it without a sharp stab of pain like a spike being driven through her forehead. She groaned again and buried her head under her pillow. When she peeked out she saw Ripper on his couch, his arm dropped to his side, knuckles brushing the floor. She saw her clothes in a pile halfway between the sofa and the mattress and for the first time she realized she was naked.

Oh, God, what happened to them last night? How much did she have to drink?

She sat up and saw her companion wake, jerking with a start.

"Oh, bloody hell."

His red rimmed eyes looked no better than hers and he watched her with a passive look of misery. Unlike her, however, he actually had on pants.

"Please tell me I didn't fuck you," she begged quietly.

"That's not what you were saying last night." Her look of horror made him crack a grin. "You know, most women beg for me to fuck them. I'm rather put out that you'd be so against it."

He pushed himself to sitting and raked a hand through his adorably unkempt bedhead. He took his time about getting the water and painkillers he'd laid nearby the night before and taking one set before offering the second to her without a word. She took them gratefully and tried to make her peace with what she had done in her drunken haze. No way Giles was ever gonna know about this. No way she was telling any-

"We didn't fuck, in case you're wondering."

"We didn't?" She looked down at her nude body.

"No, we didn't. When we came home you decided you wanted to be naked before you fell asleep and I didn't stop you. I got quite the show for it, but you were passed out before I could put any of those views to use."

"How in the hell did you drink me under the table?"

He flashed a wicked looking grin at her as he got up to pull on a tee shirt.

"I cheated."

"You bastard."

"My parents were married," he corrected. "And don't try son of a bitch, either, because my mum is lovely when she wants to be."

"Suck a dick," she groused.

"I have."

He flashed her another grin before disappearing. When he came back it was with tea and painkillers. She blessed him silently and took them quickly, leaning back to let the room stop spinning. She felt him sneak onto the mattress and when she opened her eyes he was towered over her braced on one arm. Her words died on her lips when he bent down and claimed them with his own. Instead, a moan escaped her, resonating low in her chest. His kiss was demanding and passionate but she returned it just as fiercely. Wrapping her arms around his neck she pulled him down on top of her, knowing she could take the weight and not worrying about it. Her fingers slid into his hair as his tongue sought entrance into her mouth and tangled with her own.

"I want you," he growled, low and dangerous.

"God, yes."

Though neither were in the best shape she didn't stop him as he moved the blanket out of the way to reveal her naked body. He studied it for a moment or two before tasting her skin. Starting at her neck he worked his way over her body, teasing each inch of skin he came across with his lips and teeth. He knelt between her legs to allow his hands to roam freely, cupping and caressing each part of her. They found her breasts and rolled them gently, plying each milky mound with every bit of his expert attention. His lips traveled lower and found what it wanted nestled between her legs. Running his tongue over her core he found her taste to be every bit as sweet as he imagined. The low moan she let out encouraged him to keep going, exploring her slit thoughtfully. He took time to figure out what brought out the loudest moans before turning his attention to the little bundle of nerves that would bring her to orgasm for him. That was what he wanted first, before he ever even entered her body.

He teased and manipulated the little pearl with his lips and tongue, feeling her writhing beneath his ministrations. Her moans were like music, far more satisfying than any others he'd heard before, including Ethan's. She felt so much more responsive to his effort than anyone he'd ever been with. They matched, somehow. He slipped a finger into her eager hole and felt it contracting around it in a way he'd never felt. The woman had muscle control, and not just for fighting. He moaned against her, moving his finger inside her and adding a second. It was all too easy to imagine being inside of her and his cock was rock solid in anticipation.

"Come for me, dove."

She let out a gasp as he tormented her clit with renewed vigor, moving his fingers inside her with shallow thrusts as well. Her hips moved in time with his movements, inner muscles rippling over the invading digits. Her moans grew sharper, more urgent, as he worked and he guided her the rest of the way to her first climax. When it came, it came hard, shaking her entire body with a loud cry. The others could probably hear what they were up to but this was a concert they were used to and it was only a matter of time before he showed the American what he could do, in their minds.

Today was the day.

"Jesus fucking –"

"Jesus has nothing to do with it," he corrected, moving to sink himself inside her with a lascivious groan. "He's not here right now and he's certainly not the one fucking you."

With that he began to move, setting a demanding pace from the start. She wrapped her legs around his waist automatically, moving with him as he thrust into her willing body. It felt like heaven, far better than she would have ever imagined the Watcher could feel like though by now the two of them were so far removed from one another they felt like different people entirely. His size was nothing to complain about and he filled her completely. Almost like a glove she covered him, moving with him in a way that complimented his own movements. He watched her lost in pleasure and was amazed by how beautiful she looked, how at ease. He bent down to kiss her passionately.

"Ripper," she whimpered.

"Yes, dove?"

"Don't stop!"

"Not until you're satisfied. Completely. I swear it."

He caught her hands and held them in his own over her head, catching her eyes as he continued his hard thrusts. The pleasure was certainly overwhelming to the point where he didn't even think about reaching into his magical bag of tricks to make it better. He usually did just to keep things interesting for himself but he was fully absorbed into what they were doing now: feeling her clenching him, wet and scorching hot. He was quite certain he'd never want anything else as much as this for the rest of his days.

It was with surprise that he felt her turning them, using some of her strength to get him into the position she wanted, with her body on top. She kissed him deeply, letting her tongue tease his.

"I want to drive."

Drive she did. She impaled herself on his hard member over and over moving her hips in a way no one else could duplicate. It was torture, but the best kind of it, demanding nothing but pleasure from him. His moan rolled in his chest like thunder, his hands gripping her hips just to go along for the ride. He was in the rare position where he had no idea what to do with himself with her doing all the work so damn well he couldn't step in. For lack of anything better her dropped his head back and let out a desperate groan.

"Ah fuck!"

"You like that?"

"You know bloody well I do, you vixen. You've bewitched me, Faith."

"Damn right I did."

She kissed him, giving into a powerful orgasm as she did. He felt her become vice tight over him to the point where thrusting was almost painful, but he took it up anyway while she surrendered to her climax, using his powerful arms to work her through it, extending the ecstasy for them both. With a rush of frenzied thrusts he reached his own powerful finish, sitting up to put his arms around her as he buried himself. Her arms went around him and held him close while his phallus thrashed around inside of her, spending himself. He found himself kissing her again when his head cleared and when they parted they were both panting.

Flopping back, he carried her with him settling with her slight body on top of his.

"That was bloody brilliant."

"It was pretty good."

"Only pretty good?" He huffed.

"Oh, don't be like that. But when a girl keeps hearing about all these magic tricks of yours and you don't bust them out…"

He felt his ego punched right in the gut and looked away from her. He couldn't tell if she was serious or just trying to goad him along but either way he'd been dedicated to their romp and completely entranced by it.

"Is that right?" He finally answered. "Magic's what a man's got to do to get your praise? Luckily, that I have in spades, dove."

He rolled them, reaching for her hands again and pinning them above her head. This time they stayed where he planted them as he sat up on his knees between her legs. She tried to move but despite not having any visible restraints she couldn't lift her wrists from where he placed them. Her eyes widened and she gasped, trying harder until he touched her cheek and kissed her lightly.

"Don't forget who you're with." It sounded almost like Giles when he said that. The look, too, was very similar. She felt herself relaxing.

With her reassured he went back to work.

"Perhaps it's time we played a game, Faith. The object of the game is to see how long it takes you before you're begging to be fucked good and proper again."

"I don't beg."

"You'll beg," he promised, "and you'll cry and you'll scream my bloody name before we're through."

"That's a tall promise."

"I keep my promises."

But then he didn't do anything, just watching her as she watched him. He was studying her body, trying to figure out how best to torment her with these tricks she wanted so much. The usual variety weren't going to cut it with her as it did with the other girls he'd bedded but, thankfully, he was a resourceful man with very little concept of consequence. He'd figure something out. Her look plainly stated that if he had something to do he had best get on with it. He chuckled.

"Bored, dove?"

"I'm drying up as we speak."

"That won't do."

He trailed his fingertips over her chest, letting one of them brush her nipple as it passed and immediately a warmth moved inside of her in a large swell. There wasn't a feeling to it, exactly, only it made her want. She wanted him to keep touching her. She wanted to keep feeling that warmth inside of her. She moaned, arching up to try to catch the hand that was hovering just over her body. He smirked.

"Better?"

"What the fuck?"

"You asked for magic, Faith. I'm afraid you may have put yourself in over your head."

"Not possible."

"We'll see."

He moved his damned fingertips over her skin, leaving her aching in their wake for a need he had yet to satisfy. She knew damn well what he wasn't touching by what he was and he was very careful to avoid coming close to what would please her most. He was an expert at teasing her, using his magic on every part of her body except her throbbing clit. She struggled against the restraints, unable to sate the appetite for herself.

"God damnit!"

"Problem?"

"Ripper cut the shit. What's the point?"

"We're playing a game, dove, and there's only one way to get what you want. I can up the stakes, if you like."

"Wha-"

He pressed his palm to her pubic mound and immediately pleasure exploded inside of her, radiating from beneath his palm to the rest of her body and back again, moving in solid waves back and forth inside of her in an endless ocean. It wasn't the orgasm she was looking for but it was overwhelming and dire, washing over her and keeping her attention. Though, through it all she was still keenly aware of what was not getting attention.

"Oh FUCK!" She cried out, pitching against his touch. "Oh, fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck."

"That sounds like you enjoy it."

"It's excruciating." She gasped. "Do it again."

He did.

The second time was better than the last, multiplying on itself to the point of being nearly painful. She was soaking wet when he pulled his hand away and all she could think about was him being inside of her pistoning away like a steam engine. The thought was enough to make her moan. She was practically begging for it with her eyes but he wanted her words.

"Ripper," she whimpered, defiance gone. "You promised. Until I was satisfied, remember?"

"I aim to keep that promise."

"Then do it, fuck me."

"Not yet, dove. Soon, but not yet."

"Why not?"

"Because you're begging, but not quite enough."

She hooked her legs around his waist and yanked him forward, catching him by surprise and pulling him down on top of her. When he was she kissed him deeply. Some of the magic from her body seeped into his with their contact and he groaned into her mouth. He'd been hard to begin with, now he felt like diamond or steel and he wanted only one thing: though that hadn't changed from the beginning.

"You bitch! Just when I thought you'd behave."

"I told you it was a tall promise. Just fuck me already; you know you want to."

"I know you want me to."

"Good God you're stubborn."

She kissed him again, shifting against his hard length and letting him know exactly what he was missing. He wanted to win this little battle of wills but he also desperately wanted to bury himself inside of her and lose any other sense of up, down, or sideways.

"I want you," she whimpered quietly. "I just want you."

He pushed into her slowly, releasing her wrists as he took her hands in his. He moved slowly, deliberately, and listened to her contented sigh as he filled her. He closed his eyes as she leaned up, resting her forehead against his shoulder. He just wanted to please her, moving for them both but especially for her pleasure. It was a surprise when she fell over the edge, coming hard beneath him with a cry of his name.

"Ripper!"

"Yes, dove, do it again. Come for me again."

These words. Where the hell were they coming from? A girl wasn't lucky to come when he was with her and that was by design but while he went for that he didn't crave their pleasure like he did with her. He wanted her to climax almost as much as he wanted to reach his own release. More so. Jesus, what was she doing to him?

He kept his gentle pace, savoring each sensation as her inner muscles rippled around him, flooding over him with the proof of her climax and he groaned, looking into her eyes as he moved. She stared into his and gasped again, wrapping her legs around him.

"I want you," he purred.

"God, yes!"

He picked up his pace only slightly, determined to hold off on his own release until she was entirely wrung through with pleasure. He'd made his promises and he was going to stick to them, by God. He thrust deeper, angling her hips so he could bury his full sizeable cock inside her. He'd never forget that sensation for as long as he lived, nor the look on her face as he made love to…

"Christ," he panted. "Ah, bloody hell!"

He loved her. What in the hell? Where had such an absurd thing as love come from? She'd only been in his life for a few days and no one else had ever succeeded in earning his love in a lifetime but the more he thought about it the more he couldn't deny it. This felt unlike anything he'd ever had before. He wasn't a gentle, lovemaking kind of a man. He was in it for fun and for his ultimate reward at the conclusion and having women spread it around, lusting after him. He was in it for what he could get, not what he could give.

Yet here she was, an exception to all of those rules.

The realization raced him toward his release to the point where he had to pull out just to keep it at bay. She let out a sound to protest, questioning in her eyes.

"On your knees," he ordered, covering for his interruption. "Better leverage."

Obediently she turned, propping herself on her hands and knees. He moved behind her and took a second before he entered. This was even worse, the angle perfect for going deep and hard and that he did, sweat glistening on his skin. He looped his hands around her hips and used them to pull her back into his invading member, even as he thrust forward. His thrusts were fast and deep, pulling almost all the way out of her only to drive himself back in fully, filling her completely in his frenzied lust.

"Faith! Oh, fuck, Faith."

She came in for him in short order, screaming his name as predicted. She also began to beg quietly, beneath the din of skin meeting skin, for him not to stop. Never to stop. He tried his best to comply, working her through two more orgasms before he felt he was about to explode from pent up pleasure. It had taken an act of iron will, and magic, to keep him from his release all this while.

"Faith, ride me." He purred his command, his intention clear.

She straddled his hips and started moving for him, going back to the slow, luxurious pace they'd set at the beginning. She wanted him to feel it, not just to overwhelm him with a quick fix. He moaned, gripping the bedsheet as she moved. His eyes were closed and he was moaning in low, keening sounds. He needed her in a way that went beyond the physical.

"One more time, Faith. Come with me one more time. I'm so bloody close!"

She nodded, picking up her pace and letting herself really enjoy it. When her climax hit her it took all of two seconds for his to come in behind. He latched onto her hips and drug them down to engulf his full length, cursing as he came. Then his lips claimed hers for a searing kiss, moaning as she milked each drop of his climax from his stony cock with her muscles.

That time when she collapsed beside him she looked content, turning to hold onto him. He didn't protest. The hangover she'd lamented that morning was all but a distant memory.

"Now that was brilliant," she admitted sleepily. "I could use about a two hour nap."

"So could I," he agreed, and was out like a light.


	17. Discussions in the Dark

Giles was tossing in his sleep...again. Dee watched him from the doorway for a few minutes. She had gone upstairs to check on him when she heard movement, used to being up all night as was the gang’s usual habit. He usually slept like a stone but she could hardly blame him considering what was at hand. She closed the door quickly and quietly when he let out a desperate, panting groan.

“Faith!” 

He was trapped in the memory of what just happened, experiencing it all as if it was the first time, breaking through the memory spell he’d placed on himself bit by bit. If the entire situation was strange he could hardly bring himself to care as he lived vicariously through his younger counterpart, fucking the Slayer, and himself, to within an inch of their lives. Ripper’s revelation, too, was new and exciting however unwelcome it might have been. The older frame of mind was more willing to accept it than the younger, but was also just as confused by it. 

The feelings beating inside him were new and felt as such, taking over his senses and dumping him full of the wonderful intoxicants of love. As he saw Faith falling asleep at the end of their romp he saw his younger self frowning, and then moving to hold her close to his body, something he had never done before to that point. He always kept himself decidedly apart from women when he was through with them and though he didn’t tend to kick them out right after, they deserved their rest, he made it clear that this was only temporary for all involved.

Still, he couldn’t help but smile in his sleep as he watched, feeling his body stir. Desperate to hold on he reached to magic to help him.

“Faith!”

“G?” Her sleepy whisper barely made her stir.

“Faith! Find me in your dreams!”

“Ok.”

Ripper stirred then, adjusting his arms around her and tightening his grip. She smiled and eased back to sleep while the older Giles awoke with a gasp. Sitting up, he shook his head and tried to clear it but was unsuccessful. What had just happened assaulted his mind, trying to get his thoughts to catch up to one another. Accepting it in sleep was one thing, processing it while awake was another.

“Oh, bugger!” Literally.

But she had heard him, he knew she had. And if she heard possibly she’d remember. They could meet in sleep. It made sense, a little, and he postulated theories while his mind worked but the most important thing was that he might be able to harness these memories and augment them with magic to be able to reach backward. Faith was the conduit, of course, from his time but displaced to another. He needed to be able to reach them both because, from what he had seen, things were already much too far past changed for him to be comfortable. Faith had just become his first real love.

He slumped against the headboard with a sigh, reliving the memories he’d just witnessed. He was loathed to admit it but the memories were affecting him more than he would have liked, as evidenced by the sizable erection between his legs. He groaned, willing it to subside. It wasn’t going away. The feeling was too fresh and, God help him, the last time he’d bedded a woman was longer ago than he cared to admit. No matter how he knew he was going to have to manage these new feelings he couldn’t help but reach down to wrap his hand around his throbbing member to try to find at least some form of release. He hissed as he stroked himself, trying not to make too much noise.

“Ripper?”

The door opened a crack and Deirdre peeked in. He was quick to stop what he was doing and try to assume and innocent pose, but not quite quick enough. She came in and shut the door behind her. He was blushing some furious shade of red, he was sure, judging by the amount of heat he felt on his face. Thankfully in the dark room it would be difficult to tell. His length hadn’t managed to calm down entirely, but being caught had helped since the embarrassment burned away any desire.

“I heard noises. You were thrashing earlier. It didn’t seem like you were sleeping well. You moaned Faith’s name in your sleep.”

“D-did I?”

“I’ve hear that enough to know you weren’t in pain, Ripper.”

“Dee, I assure you -”

His words were cut off by the press of her lips to his. He yanked away immediately though that was the last thing his body wanted. It was already protesting his use of restraint. Still, he needed to be sensible.

“Deidre, I can’t do this.”

She reached down and ran her hand along his solid phallus, making him grit out a moan between his clenched teeth.

“Ahh, fuck!”

“I know it’s not me you’re thinking of. It’s Faith. This is so far beyond complicated.” She moved to kiss his neck, finding a spot sensitive enough to make him emit another small groan. “You’re going to take away my memory of it, anyway. Let me just have you for one night so I know. So I can feel it.”

“Dee, I can’t do that to you. The implications are horrifying at best. What if you became pregnant and had no idea why or who's it was? I wouldn’t know in this time or that. Besides, I can’t make love to you while I’m -”

“Thinking of someone else.”

“Yes.”

“You really have changed.”

“I’m afraid so.”

“That’s a shame.”

“This was unexpected. I couldn’t have imagined I’d be made to feel these things. She’s half my age, Dee.”

Then again, so was she, technically. 

“Tell me what’s happening, Rupert? You’ve been playing things largely close to your chest.”

He did. Since she wouldn’t remember anyway he laid everything out for her as it had been happening to him, up to the revelation he’d experienced only a scant hour ago. 

“It feels like yesterday. I know I don’t love her and yet I do. I’m helpless. I don’t know what will happen when I see her again because she loves a man I no longer am, if she loves me at all.”

His friend took a long time to respond, showing wisdom beyond her years. “Rupert, you were just telling how you wished for someone to share your time with. You wanted more peace and joy in your life. Faith hasn’t changed, and neither have you, not really. The qualities she loves are still inside you, I’m sure of it.”

“You haven’t met her, Dee. You don’t understand.”

“Do you understand the reasons why you love her?”

“Understand?”

“Yes. Do you know why you fell for this girl?”

“I mean, it could be any number of reasons. She’s a Slayer and this is my calling. I’d never met one before she came along. Not to mention she’s smart, strong, passionate, and free. Free in a way I haven’t been since I…”

“Since you gave up Ripper for Rupert.”

His bright jade eyes flashed in the moonlight as he nodded.

“And if this had never happened would you ever have noticed all of these traits, so much like yours?”

“Of course I would have! I mean, eventually I would have seen it.”

“Would you?”

“Probably.”

“Would you have acted on it?”

“Of course not!”

“We never know the reasons why, but sometimes things are meant to be. Maybe this needed to happen for you to discover that what you were looking for was right in front of you the entire time.”

“She won’t want me. She wants a man that has never heard of tweed, has no compunction about taking what he wants exactly when he wants it, and someone with a rakish, devil may care attitude.”

Dee looked at him. “I still want you.”

“You want an image of that man, too. I’m a poor substitute.”

“You’re better than you were. You have family, people that love you now. You grew up; that’s not a crime.”

“All the same…”

“If you’re still the man I know, Rupert, if she’s worth it you’ll cross the wide world to get what you want.”

She kissed his forehead, smiling at him in the darkness before moving to leave. She paused by the door, looking at him across the room again.

"Good luck wanking."

"Bugger off!" He called back playfully, tossing a pillow at the door as it closed. There was a smile on his lips that hadn't been there before but the arousal had gone and there was no need to pleasure himself any longer. When he reached down to do something he did not indulge in very often it was for no other reason than he wanted to.


	18. The Coward's Way

When he woke his limbs felt leaden, protesting any sort of movement at all. The magic he’d used on Faith wasn’t exactly kind to his body, but as he spotted her curled up against him he knew that it had all been worth it. She hadn’t awakened yet, but the sun had gone from his window indicating they’d slept longer than he’d intended. Not that he had anything in particular to do, but the gang was sort of useless without someone to lead them and when he wasn’t around often Ethan decided that was going to be him and it was best not to encourage those thoughts. He avoided it, if at all possible.

He stilled, giving himself a moment to catch his breath. Realizing that he loved her was no small thing and it was made worse by the fact that she was leaving him. He couldn’t keep her behind without changing his life and the lives of many others in dire, fundamental ways. He shuddered, kissing her temple lightly before pulling himself away. There was only one thing to do in a situation like this, only one reasonable thing.

He got dressed quickly and quietly, long practiced in staying quiet so as not to wake the girl he’d taken to bed the night before.

“Come on, dove.” He shook her shoulder lightly.

“Giles!” She bolted straight upright, his name, but not his name, on her lips. She looked at him, appeared confused, and then seemed to remember how all of this was happening. “Ripper…”

“I’m here.”

“When we fell asleep I heard you, I mean…him. He told me to find him, to find him in my dreams. I couldn’t stop dreaming about him when I was sleeping. I think, I think he wants to tell me something.”

“Are you sure it wasn’t just a dream, Faith?”

“No. I remember it – Hey!” She quirked her eyebrow up. “Why are you dressed? Where’s the fire?”

She’d been comfortable in his arms and that was for a girl that did not cuddle. He’d worn her out completely and for once she didn’t feel like dashing immediately afterward. He hardened his eyes, backing away from her and steeling his resolve inside.

“There are things to do. I’ve still got to get you back, don’t I?”

“Well, yeah, but there’s time for that.”

“No sense in wasting time. I already got what I wanted.”

“What?” Her mouth dropped open. Her eyes widened and though they didn’t flood with tears as he had feared, they plainly stated how hurt she was. “That’s not what that was. I’m not just some -”

“That’s exactly what it was, Faith. You don’t lie the wolf down with the lamb without disaster striking.”

“You don’t mean that.”

“How do you know what I mean? You don’t even know me. You’ve been here a few days and you fucked like the devil, but that’s all it was. I’m not the man you know, obviously.”

Only he was. He was putting her first, trying to sever the cord now before she had the chance to fall in love with him in return. There was no sense in both of them aching this way. He hated that he was losing her, and what he was putting them both through for the sake of their feelings; maybe he was taking the coward’s way out. He’d never be able to explain away this pain, but in the end he was taking the easy way by needing to make himself forget. It wasn’t something he ever thought he would do and he nearly wavered as he saw her gaze grow distant and then rapidly get harder. Her beautiful face turned from pain to anger as she stood up. She yanked on her clothes, distracting herself from letting any tears fall, not for him, and cursed herself for being stupid and easy. Easy was all well and good when she chose it, but for the first time she felt used…and hurt by it.

“Faith?”

“Get out.” The words were quiet, venomous.

“No, this is my -”

He didn’t have a chance to finish the protest before she turned and threw her strength into cracking him across the jaw. Red exploded in front of his eyes and he toppled sideways gracelessly, his jaw aching and blood trickling from the corner of his mouth.

“I said get the fuck out.”

His own anger exploded, magic coiling around his fists though he was in no position to be using it but he didn’t move to hurt her. He couldn’t. He couldn’t even begrudge her reactions.

“You’ll never know what you’ve done.” Her voice was choked with emotion; she dropped her fists. “Get out.”

He moved toward the door, not willing to risk a second blow with stars still dancing in his vision.

“Yes, I bloody well do,” he muttered, but he was too far out the door for her to hear. He paused outside the door, hearing her make a small, anguished sound and moved away to allow her privacy. Banding the other members of the gang together he sent them off to go cause trouble, making them all promise not to listen to Ethan. Once they were gone he pondered what she said about finding his elder self in her dreams. Eyghon the Sleepwalker was a demon he’d been researching for some time, and it appeared that the research would come in handy. He knew all about sleep and possession and how to allow her to cross space while asleep, and possibly even time.

He got his materials, wincing at the thought of facing her again, and moved upstairs. When he opened his door she was sitting on the couch, staring out the crack between the boards crisscrossed over his window. She didn’t immediately move to acknowledge him, feeling tired and wanting to go home.

“I think I know how to put you in touch with me in the future. It’ll take a bit of doing. I’ll need to mark you, that is…” He held up the marker in his hand. “A few symbols, just to allow your consciousness to transcend the body and, if all goes well, time.”

“I don’t care about the how. Just get me home.” She missed his wince.

“Take off your shirt.”

She shrugged, tugged it off like it was nothing. It was nothing; he’d already seen it. With ice in her eyes she sat there for him to mark, trusting him to do as he said and work to get her home. Hesitantly, mindful of his aching jaw and the consequences of his actions, he reached out to draw the symbols on her skin. The marker wasn’t permanent, it didn’t need to be, and he drew one mark on her forehead and one over her heart. She sat almost patiently as he worked, shivering and offering a glare when he blew on her skin to dry the ink. 

“You should lie down.”

She leaned back on the couch and closed her eyes, listening to him begin to chant softly. Everything faded after that and she found herself in the Sunnydale High library. She looked around. 

“G?”

He groaned, the sound coming from the back of the room. She jogged up the steps into the stacks and found him lying on the ground. 

“Giles!”

She looped an arm underneath him and helped him sit up, guiding him to lean back to one of the stacks.

“Faith? Is that really you?”

“It’s me. I’m here. Ripper found a way to connect me to you.”

“I could have chosen a more opportune moment. I don’t relish the headache I’ll have when I wake up.”

“You weren’t already asleep?”

“No. I was researching, writing a spell to bring you home.”

“G -” She never thought she’d miss the Scoobies. At the moment, though, she was rather home sick. He gathered her up in his arms without a word, holding her and smoothing her hair lightly. “Don’t worry, we’ll fix this. We’ll bring you back. I promise.”

She couldn’t possibly begin to tell him how stupid she’d been. 

“How long do we have?”

“Not long enough for my comfort. I’ll do the best I can to explain all of this to you. Above all, we must perform the spell to make the switch at the exact same time. In the same place, if we can manage it.”

“Do you know the cemetery where you first took me to patrol when you wanted me to prove who I was?” He nodded. “There was a crypt there. The only one in the place, I think. We could cast the spell in front of that. It looked pretty out of the way.”

“Alright. Tomorrow night. Midnight, Faith. Timing is imperative.”

She nodded. “I know.”

He spent what time they had left giving her first the basics of the spell and then the details. She needed to relate these to his younger self. He felt himself wavering, waking up naturally. He grabbed her hands and held them in his own, looking into her eyes for a moment before he woke fully.

“We will get you back, I promise.”

And then she was gone. He woke with a trio of anxious people surrounding him and, as he suspected, a splitting headache. The lump was not pleasant looking but at least he didn’t appear to be suffering more serious damage from it.

“Tonight,” he informed them. “At midnight.”

Several decades in the past Faith was relating the same information to his counterpart, explaining what he’d told her and the magic they would need to use. It was going to be difficult and draining, but at least she’d be out of his hair. 

That was the absolute last thing he wanted, but he forced himself to nod.

“Good.”


	19. The Divide

Faith was a bundle of nerves before midnight. Ripper watched her and noted the careful way she did not look in his direction all evening unless she had to. He was shoving things he needed into a bag, trying his best not to look at her for his own reasons: she was angry with him; he was in love with her. That was just how it had to be and he could already feel the urges beneath his skin to hide his pain in dangerous, destructive ways. It was fortunate, then, that he’d be forgetting her so the city could be spared the backlash of his venting. 

“We should go. My mates will be back soon.”

He preferred to be gone before they got there. The potion he laced their booze with would rid them of the memory of the last few days, the same potion lying on a table in his room that he’d force himself to take when he returned home. Forgetting her was unthinkable but he had no other choice. It was that or risk a future without her in it at all and that was the only comfort he had. Someday, somehow, she’d find him again. It wouldn’t be the same, but at least he’d have her in his life. 

She nodded, picking up her own meager possessions. They didn’t amount to much, only what she had on her the night she was thrown through time. She was silent as they walked out the door and toward the cemetery she’d chosen for the exchange. 

“It’ll be good to have Dee back,” he commented absently, softly, having remembered more of her now that he knew she was supposed to be there.

“I don’t care,” she responded tersely. 

That hurt. “Faith…” he reached out to stop her but she brushed him off, offering a withering glare as he tried. 

“Why don’t you just fuck off already? Send me home and get whoever is supposed to be here back. I don’t belong here. I don’t belong with you.”

Those last words sounded definite and a flash of real pain whipped through his body with it. He frowned, twisting it into a scowl before she could see beyond to the real heart of the matter: his heart. Elsewhere Giles felt his own heart hurting, keenly knowing why and cursing himself for not just telling her how he felt but he was just as powerless with it in the present as he was in the past. Going the wide world over for her was one thing, turning back time was another. He could not be Ripper again, not even for her. 

“Giles?”

He started out of his thoughts to see Buffy staring at him. He couldn’t pretend he’d been paying attention to anything around him so he hoped she hadn’t been trying to get his attention for a while.

“Yes?”

“We’re ready.”

“I would encourage you lot not to come along. The magic can be casted by one person alone and I doubt I’ll need protection.”

“I don’t like that idea.”

“Stay here, with Willow. Perhaps the force that put her into her coma will wake her when the spell is reversed. She’ll need her friends around her to help her make sense of it.”

The blond looked uncertain. He smiled kindly, putting a hand on her shoulder.

“All will be well, I promise. I’ll be back before you know it with Faith.”

“One hour or I’m coming after you.”

“One hour.”

He motioned to Deirdre and off they went through the dark London streets. 

“Why haven’t you done it yet?” She whispered. He wasn’t sure he heard her. 

“Done what?”

“Taken my memories.”

“Putting it off, I suppose. Just before the spell’s cast.”

“Oh.”

“I’ll miss you, Dee.” His voice was thick with emotion, knowing this was his last chance to truly say goodbye to her. 

“Don’t do that. I don’t want to cry.” But she already was, great large tears slipping down her cheeks.

They got to the cemetery and he slipped them inside, closing the gate behind them and re-locking the padlock around the black wrought iron. He led them further into the graveyard, finding the mausoleum as if he’d been there a hundred times. Immediately he began setting up, consecrating a circle so they wouldn’t be disturbed by any demons or vampires and laid the trappings of the spell. Once the candles were lit he nodded at his friend.

“I need you in that center circle.” 

She moved obediently and he started to cast the spell. A vortex began to open and before it grew too large he came forward to kiss her sweetly, mixing the potion on his lips with a few words of power as he pulled away. 

Ripper set the spell, putting candles around a circle and consecrating it, watching her stand obediently in the center to find her way home. Quietly, he took his place and began chanting the spell he’d prepared, the same one his future self was saying. He saw the portal opening, steeling himself for the last few moments he had her. He hated the separation, hated that she hated him, hated that there was nothing he could do about any of it. His resolve wavered as he saw light start to swirl around her ankles and any moment she’d be sucked through. 

“Faith!” The ruckus the spell kicked up was intense and he had to shout to be heard over the din. He shielded his eyes against the light.

“What?”

“I lo-”

She was gone. The cemetery was suddenly as quiet as it was meant to be and Dee was lying at his feet. 

“Bloody hell,” she complained. “What in the hell were you trying to do with that one, Ripper?”

“Doesn’t matter.” He scowled at the piece of Earth she’d disappeared into and tried to put it behind him. “Come on, Dee. I could use a fucking drink.”

He needed to forget. 

Faith was lying on the ground, unconscious, and Giles took a moment just to appreciate the fact that the spell had worked as intended. He knelt by her side, rolling her onto her back, and checked her pulse. It was strong and steady, of course, but it mirrored everything he did not feel. Seeing her, having her this close again after knowing what they’d been through, was nothing he could have prepared for. He was shaken by it, drawing his fingers down her cheek, feather light. She was infinitely more beautiful to him now than she had been only a few days ago. Stirring, she let out a soft sound, her head turning toward him.

“Ripper?”

His heart fell.

“I’m afraid not. You’re back in the present, Faith.”

“Giles?” Her eyes cracked open, focusing on his form in front of her.

“I’m here,” he promised, helping her sit up and bracing her against his body. “You’re alright.”

She closed her eyes and he thought he felt her shudder, her shoulders shaking with tears held back. It was the last thing he wanted and he reached to put his arms around her, only to have her shrug them away violently, jerking out of his grasp. He tried not to take it personally, giving her space if she needed it. 

“Before you left just now,” he began softly, “there was something I had wanted to tell you.”

“Not sure what else there was to say.”

“After everything you know about me, Faith, did you really think it would be so simple?”

“I don’t know you.”

He frowned before nodding. “That’s fair, but you knew him: better than anyone, I daresay.”

“I don’t want to talk about this.” She backed away from him two steps, looking more vulnerable than he had ever seen her look before, but also more defensive.

“We can’t pretend it didn’t happen.”

“That what didn’t happen?” 

For as long as she could she was going to play dumb and she hoped to God he didn’t know everything she’d done with him because that added a whole new layer of confusion to an already maddening cluster fuck. He watched her with the patience gained from decades of practice and relative solitude and didn’t dare push her to confront this. From experience he knew if he forced her he would only succeed in pushing her away. He imagined his arms around her, remembered sleeping with her in his arms. He couldn’t help but replay those moments over in his head, trying to determine how best to make her understand what he had tried to do, however misguided.

“You know what happened,” he told her softly. She sighed.

“How long have you known? From the beginning? Since we met?”

“No,” he countered. “Certainly not. The memories unlocked as I relived them, as you lived them for the first time. I dreamt of where you were and remembered the time we spent together in my past that I had locked away.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Sorry?” He hadn’t been expecting that and balked slightly. “Whatever for?”

“Everything. Fucking you.”

He winced. “You can regret it if you like, but I find that I won’t.”

“You’re kidding.”

“Do you have any idea what you did?”

“Made a huge fucking mistake.”

“You remained with me, Faith, even when I forgot you. You put the idea of being a Watcher in my head again and it didn’t let me alone. I fought it harder once you left but in the end it was stronger than my rebellion. Even when I didn’t know it I was working my way back to you.”

“Why in the hell would you do that for a sport fuck?”

“A…” He stood there flabbergasted for a few long moments, unable to comprehend how she couldn’t see past his ruse. It had been rather thin, after all, in hindsight. “It was a very good shag, Faith, and Lord knows I was not exactly celibate in my past but you were far more to me than I wanted you to believe.”

He shoved his hands in his pockets, leaning against one of the headstones in the cemetery. By his reckoning, Buffy would be out looking for them both in just a short time. They didn’t have the hours necessary to give what had happened its proper due. They were both feeling fragile, he suspected, in their own ways. 

“I foolishly believed it would be easier for you to leave if you believed I cared nothing for you. It was wrong of me to abuse your feelings as I did, especially when what I said reflected how I felt so very poorly. Somewhere in the middle of our lovemaking I realized just how true those feelings were. The idea of letting you go was heartbreaking. It still is, and you’re standing right in front of me. In that moment I thought that if I didn’t allow you to fall in love with me it would spare at least one of us the heartache.”  
“Stop. Talking.”

“It was selfish of me.” He fell silent, studying her, remembering the way she’d struck him and the recurring ache in his jaw occasionally on cold days since. He’d never been able to explain it before. 

“I can’t do this. I’m not doing this. Everything about this situation is completely messed up.”

“I agree.”

“So stop talking. Stop trying to make it right when it’s never gonna be right. It’s not gonna be ok between us, G. Everything’s changed.”

And when things changed her first instinct was always to run, to get as far away from the source of her confusion as possible before the whole of it swallowed her up. She looked at him for any trace of Ripper still hiding beneath his skin and found only the same open, earnest Giles he’d always been. It was as if the two of them really were separate people and she had no idea how to reconcile in her mind that the one was the other when he was standing in front of her so different than what she’d known only moments before. 

“No one else knows, in case you were worried. There was no reason to tell anyone what happened.”

He’d only told Buffy what she needed to know and though she knew he was keeping secrets thank God she hadn’t guessed what they were. 

“So we pretend it never happened.”

“If you like.” He pinched the bridge of his nose beneath his glasses as was his wont when he was particularly stressed. All she could see was another person in him.

“What were you going to say before I left?”

“That I loved you.” He gave her a soulful look. “I couldn’t go through with the lie. I forced myself to forget your impact on me so that I could have you in my life again someday. You were my first real love, Faith, only I never knew it before tonight. ”

Tears flushed her eyes and she let out an uncharacteristically weak sound. She put her fist to her mouth, turning away from him immediately and stifling any other sounds that might betray her. She turned her head only just enough to respond and the words came out so quietly he scarcely heard them and when he did they sounded strained. 

“You were mine, too.”

She took off running as soon as she said it, heading toward the gate and his mind scrambled to catch up. Love. She admitted love of him. Were. That word was a knife through a confession that should have elated him to know it. He shook his head, unable to chase after her even if he wanted to. Instead, he gathered his supplies and stewed on what was said between them. By the time he reached the flat Buffy’d gone to find him and Faith had yet to return. Willow was showing signs of improvement but had not awakened yet. He poured himself a glass of scotch and called Buffy to let her know what had happened and that he was safely home. She came back only minutes after that.

“Where’s Faith?”

“I don't know. This was traumatic to her, I expect. She’ll come back once she’s had her space and sorted everything out.”

“Are you sure?” The blond frowned, shaking her head. 

With new confidence in his ability to know her habits, he nodded. “I’m sure. Go get some rest, Buffy, I’ll be up a while.”

She nodded, offering him a small smile before disappearing into a bedroom to sleep and left him to wait up for the sun or Faith, whichever happened to arrive first.


	20. Stay

As it happened the sun arrived first, gray rays of dawn peeking through the living room windows. He was dozing in his chair as she came in, trying to be quiet. His neck was lulled against the chairback, snoring gently from his position. Though she made effort to be silent it wasn’t enough for him to stay asleep and he awoke the moment he thought he heard her and got an angry, throbbing neck kink for his trouble. He rubbed the muscle ruefully, giving her a sheepish look.

“You’re back.”

“Didn’t expect me to be?”

He glanced out the window. “Not this soon,” he noted, “or this sober.”

“Didn’t plan to be either but I was walking around Picadilly and ended up here again.”

“That’s quite a walk.”

She nodded, saying nothing, and sat on the couch across the room from him. They both knew they were as good as alone and she picked up the bottle of scotch he left on the coffee table, aiming to agree to one of his expectations, if not the other. 

“There’s no need for that, Faith.”

“I think there’s plenty of need for it,” she sighed. “Besides, it’s what’s expected of me, right?”

He shook his head, though he was hardly one to complain about dulling the ache with a few drinks. More than once he’d had that bottle in hand trying to burn away his troubles. He’d had a few while he waited for her, in fact, and his glass was sitting discarded on the table by his side. It was hard to tell what kind of a drunk he would be on nights he chose to indulge: giggly or brooding. He’d been brooding tonight, wondering about their predicament.

“I shouldn’t have said I expected that. It’s not fair to you. I know you’ve grown these past few years and I’ve been remiss to tell you that I’ve noticed.”

“It’s fine.”

“It’s not fine. You shouldn’t sell yourself so short.”

He looked at her as if looking at her for the first time. He took in the care on her face and the way the light began to highlight her cheeks. He allowed himself to remember the reasons he had loved her, and coupled that with all the things he admired about her before, but had not really stated aloud. It was true, none of it was fair to her but at least he could aim to correct that now while there was time to do it. Perhaps love was his motivation, but still it would be good to do. She was better than she seemed to see in herself and better than he had yet to acknowledge out loud. 

“I very often tell the rest of them that I’m proud of them. I reassure them when they need it. It’s very easy to play at being the uncle of them all. I haven’t, however, tried to do the same for you. You always held yourself away from us and, honestly, I can’t blame you for your misgivings. You have this air about you that you don’t want anyone to penetrate and though I knew better I allowed myself to follow that unspoken rule.”

“You just did what I told you to do. I don’t need anyone.”

“I know better than that now, too. I’ve seen how beautiful you are when you open up. I’ve seen how unburdened you can be when you know someone cares for you. I wish it hadn’t taken something like this to bring that to the forefront. I’m sorry, Faith. I know now that I’ve been terribly unfair to you from the moment we met. It’s not easy for me to admit that I’m wrong but I was so wrapped up in my Slayer and the conflicts with the Council and you were so lost in your rebellion that I failed to see how remarkable you can truly be.”

He leveled his gaze at her from across the room and though he saw that she was embarrassed he continued on. It was the least he could do and he’d read somewhere that confession was good for the soul. Perhaps it would be good for the both of them to have the air clear between them after everything that happened. Theirs was a long and strange journey but it lead them here, that night, and he intended to make use of it as best he was able. 

“The truly incredible thing was that you came back for us when we needed you. You weren’t obligated, but you came through in Sunnydale. You had no reason to help or trust anyone there but you were willing to lay down your life for the greater good, a feat I have no properly acknowledged. You are not just strong and beautiful. You aren’t just deadly and good in a fight. You are surprisingly kind which no one has appreciated in you, until now. I appreciate you.”

She took a long drink from her glass and barely winced as it went down and he gave her the moment to collect her thoughts. It was a lot he was handing to her in a short time and he wanted to be sure that he didn’t scare her away. The fact that she was still seated and not pacing was a promising step. 

“I see you.”

She looked at him, unblinking, and rose to her feet. He quickly clambered to his own, back aching from the way he slept. She didn’t move to run from the room and he didn’t make a move to stop her, they just stood there five feet apart and he watched her take everything in.

“I still love you, Faith. Experiencing it again, I knew the moment I saw you.”

“G, don’t say that.”

“Why not? It’s the truth. The longer I think on it the more I know it to be true. If you want to forget it, I can’t force you to remember, but if you’ll let me, I’d like the chance to see if those feelings might grow again between us, naturally.”

“G, you’re not the same. The guy I fell in love with has never even heard of tweed. He drinks and smokes and fucks exactly the way he wants to. He does everything his own way.”

“His ways were dangerous.”

“I’m dangerous!”

“You’re beautiful,” he countered. “And alluring, intelligent, strong. Surprisingly sweet. I happen to love you for all that you are, Faith, as I got to see it through his eyes.”

That made her feel rotten because he was not the same and she couldn’t see past that. To her he’d always been fussy and staunch and though he wasn’t unkind he’d always been on the Buffy bandwagon. To hear him change heart this way was surprising. He had yet to even mention the blond, who was one of the foremost things on her own mind. As much as she was happy to be back and profoundly grateful that he had come through for her, she now was not sure how to act around him. True, she’d been in love with him what felt like a few hours ago, but it wasn’t him at all. Or was it? The entire thing was swirling around her head in a way that suggested she was not nearly drunk enough for this.

“I’d be another Ethan to you, G. I’m nothing but chaos, and you know it.”

“I could do with a bit of chaos.”

“We both know that’s not true.”

“Who’s to say it is? I often surprise this lot with the things I do that show I’m not as stuffy as you seem to think. I can’t go entirely back to being who I was before but there has to be some midway between the man I am now and the one you loved. I’m willing to find him if you are willing to help me.”

“You shouldn’t have to change. The one thing I do know about all of this is that it should come naturally. You shouldn’t have to change to make the pieces fit.”

“I shouldn’t be forced to change, but I’m willing to do so. I’m willing to find a way to make things work if that’s what you wish. If we find that it doesn’t fit any longer, no harm done.”

He reached forward and cupped her cheek in one hand, guiding her up to look at him when all she wanted to do was look away. She was trembling, something he had never seen in her before, and he didn’t want to press but Dee’s words kept swirling around in his head. 

“I can’t help but think that perhaps the very thing I’ve always wanted has been right under my nose the entire time.”

She kissed him, deeply, desperately, clinging to him like a life raft in stormy seas. He wrapped his arms around her and groaned, bringing her body up against his in full. It didn’t solve anything but it felt damn good and he couldn’t bring himself to break the kiss for anything in the world. Faith sank her fingers into his hair and kept him close for a very long time, deepening the kiss until suddenly she broke away, pulling out of his arms so quickly he stumbled forward a step or two. He was breathing hard, so was she, and the colorful burst of intimacy was quickly squelched back to black and white. 

“I need time. I don’t know how to process this. When I was walking tonight I kept turning it over and over in my head and I didn’t find any answers. I just kept walking and they never came. I kept thinking the two people I would have talked to about it were Angel, who wouldn’t understand any of this, and you.”

“And I’m the cause of your concern so it’s not quite the same talking to me about it, is it?”

“Not really.”

“I will give you as many hours, days, weeks as you need. I would never push you into anything you aren’t willing to give me. I’ll be content with having you in my life exactly as you want to be in it: no more, and no less.”

“Why do you have to be so good?” She burst out and he flinched, hoping the others didn’t hear. He wouldn’t want to wake anyone.

“Practice,” he joked, poorly. “Honestly, though, I’ve had a lifetime of disappointments and a lifetime of triumphs. I want you to do as you need to do for yourself, without concern for me. I’ve learned well enough that trying to force an outcome you want will never be real, even if you can put all the pieces in place. I only want this if it’s as real to you as it is to me.”

He moved to pick up the bottle of scotch and offered it to her as a peace offering, brushing some hair off of her face with his free hand.

“You must be exhausted. Why don’t you take my bed? I believe it’s free at the moment. Xander and Buffy are with Willow.”

“I can’t force you out of your own bed. I saw how you were sleeping. Not good.”

“The couch will serve just fine. I’ve had plenty of practice with those kinds of long nights that another won’t matter.”

“I don’t have any pajamas.”

“Oh, well, let’s see.”

He led her to his room and searched through his drawers, coming up with a pair of loose pants that were going to be a tad large on her and a tee shirt from his closet. He even managed to ignore the look of amusement that she gave him for the fact that he hung up his tee shirts, rather than stuffing them in a drawer like most people.

“That should serve, I think, at least until we can get you something more appropriate.”

He nodded at her, job done, and kissed her cheek before turning to leave. He found himself caught by hand, though, and turned back to her a little confused.

“Are the clothes ok?”

“Stay.”

“What?”

“I want you to stay. Here. Tonight. With me.”

He gave a nervous look toward the bed, not sure what he expected but he was pretty sure his speech wasn’t supposed to be that effective. She must have noticed his panic and came close to reassure him, touching his shoulder. 

“To sleep.”

He nodded, not sure if he was more disappointed or relieved by that. It took him a moment to find clothes of his own to wear and he kept his back turned so she could change, turning back around to see her in his tee shirt and nothing more underneath. His jaw may have dropped but he thought he showed a herculean amount of restraint as he moved to his side of the bed and climbed in, settling down into the blessedly comfortable mattress.

“You somehow manage to wear my clothes better than I do,” he commented sleepily, his exhausted mind wandering and unable to self-edit. 

She let out a quick laugh. “Go to sleep.”

He was out like a light before he could feel the way she curled against him and could care about what might happen if anyone were to stumble into the room to find them this way. That was tomorrow’s problem and as light filled the room he slept like a rock knowing that one way or another at least now she knew and from here they could find their way. Everything else paled in comparison.


	21. A Little Surprise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I love you commenters! <3

When he woke up, he was alone.

A quiet sigh escaped him at the sunlight streaming into the windows, a groan as he moved to sit up. He groped for his glasses on the nightstand and tried to puzzle out whether it had been a dream that she’d asked him to stay again, or whether it had actually happened. Was it a fantasy that saw him start awake from a dream to her form cradled in his arms, a lazy leg draped over his. Was her sleepy murmur and the brief tightening of her arms around his body only in the imagination? Did he press a kiss to her forehead and whisper an endearment to her before falling back to sleep or was that the dream that woke him. It was hard to see where the memory and reality met and ended anymore. He might very well be losing his grip on everything, under the desire to be with her. He meandered to the kitchen to fix himself a cup of tea. He felt a little out of sorts, waiting for his muddled mind to clear. The tea would help, as would not stumbling about like a half blind bull. 

“Giles?”

He turned to see a familiar blond in the doorway and smiled, offering her a helpless look in greeting.

“I think Willow’s waking up.”

He set the cup down and turned off the kettle, following immediately to the guest room the redhead had been set up in. She looked small, swallowed up by the white sheets and the plain blanket. She sat beside her and took up her hand in his, holding it lightly. He willed some of his energy and life into her, wanting to see the color return to her cheeks. 

“Willow, my dear, you must wake up now. You’ve been asleep for much too long.”

“Five more minutes,” she mumbled sleepily. 

“I’m afraid I must insist.”

Buffy stood anxiously alongside the bed. The fact that the redhead said anything at all was music to her ears.

“Will…”

Her eyes fluttered at first, and then finally opened fully. She saw everyone standing around the bed and her eyes slowly drifted from one to the next and realized she had not just awakened from a nap.

“How long was I asleep?”

“A few weeks.”

“That long?” She squeaked. 

“There were unintended consequences from the spell gone awry.” Which was a herculean understatement, so far as he was concerned.

“Is everything ok now?”

“It’s getting there. We were all most worried about you.”

Faith had done her best to avoid him since that one night she’d asked him to stay. He found himself torn between memory and reality and his eyes moved to her on the fringes of the room. She ducked out as soon as she saw that the witch was alright and moving around again. He was tempted to follow after her, but remained where he was to show emotional support. 

“You’ll need more rest for a few days yet, I expect.” He mused. “But I have no doubt you’ll recover nicely in no time at all.”

Buffy took her place with Xander on the other side of the bed, both talking to her about the excitement she had missed and how everything was solved now. It was as good a time as any to bow out gracefully, which he did, shutting the door quietly behind him. He went back to turn on the tea kettle he’d abandoned only to find Faith in the kitchen. Surprisingly, there was a teacup in her hand that she was nursing. She was quiet when he approached, moving aside to let him at the steaming pot beside her. He fixed himself a nice cup, letting it steep while they stood in silence.

“Giles, I’m late.”

“Oh?” He perked a bit, looking at her expectantly. “Where do you need to go? I can drive you.”

“No, G, I’m late.”

It took him a moment for his mind to process the meaning of the words for something other than face value. When the thought finally did dawn on him he nearly dropped his cup, sputtering where he stood. It’s why he’d declined Dee’s offer of company, though his younger self had none of those compunctions. His mind spun and he gripped the cup in his hand all the tighter, just for something that felt real to hold on to.

“Oh! What you mean is...is...are you sure?”

“I’m sure I’m late.”

“But it was just the once.”

“It wasn’t once.”

“One day.”

“You know how these things work as well as I do.” 

Which was to say, at the moment, that it felt like the blind leading the blind. He knew biologically how these things worked but there were temporal circumstances, complications, and the fact that his brain completely refused to latch onto the concept that he could father a child. He groped for some sort of important something to say about it, but only managed the first question he could muster. 

“Are you, I mean, well, are you happy?”

“Are you?”

He offered a reassuring grin. “Faith, I love you. Despite what’s been happening around us, that won’t change. If you are pregnant, I think...it’s, it’s bloody brilliant!”

“Yeah?”

“Whatever happens,” he moved toward her and put his arms on her shoulders, drawing her close. “Whatever you want, we’ll get through it together.”

“What if I can’t keep it?”

The words twisted a knife he wasn’t aware had been buried in his heart. It was likely his only chance to be a father and though the circumstances weren’t ideal, he found himself surprisingly giddy by the idea. The idea that she might not want it nearly killed him where he stood, but he swallowed his own desires and looked at her seriously for a few long moments before he trusted himself to speak. After all, this was not his choice. He was not a Slayer and did not have her life expectancy. He would never ask her for more than she could handle.

“If you’d rather not, I’ll support you.” Though he meant them the words, and the resulting idea behind them, tasted bitter on his tongue. “First we should verify if there is something there to discuss.”

“I don’t want to go alone.”

“You don’t have to.”

“I don’t want speeches, either.”

“I didn’t have any prepared.”

She gave him a look to suggest she didn’t believe him but for once all of his words were failing him. He simply picked up his coat and his keys and led her down to the street. They got in the car and he pulled out onto the road toward a convenient drug store. He pulled up to the front, thinking this might be better than some sort of clinic for the same purpose. She looked out the window at the building and hesitated. He put his hand on hers. 

“I can go in for you. Or - or with you, if you want me to.”

“No, I’ll be alright.”

“Do you have enough money?”

“I don’t know.”

“Here.” He took some of the folded bills from his wallet and handed them to her, more than enough to pay for anything she wanted.

She disappeared into the store and came out a while later with a bag in hand. She got into the car again and looked uncharacteristically nervous. They couldn’t go back to his townhouse because they’d be bombarded with questions and everything that had been so carefully hidden would be exposed. He took them down a different road and she recognized where they were headed almost immediately. It wasn’t a surprise when he pulled up to his family home. Everything about it still looked and felt the same though it had been a long time since she’d been there.

“We won’t be disturbed here.”

“I know.”

He pointed her in the direction of a bathroom since she hadn’t had the benefit of a full tour the last time they were there. He moved into the library and breathed in the heavy scent of time in there. He found a rare family portrait in a small frame, picking it up off of the desk and trying to imagine himself with a family of his own. Trying to imagine Faith with their baby in her arms, smiling and laughing with him much more than his own father ever laughed. He wanted to encourage a child, support them. He imagined all of the things he could do that he’d been denied until now.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself,” he warned softly, but aloud. 

He heard the door open and put the picture frame back on the desk. He turned and looked at her expectantly. She shook her head. 

“We have to wait.”

“Oh.”

The Watcher found his ability to be stoic put entirely to the test as he wanted to go everywhere at once. 

“You know, Faith, if you are, and you wanted to keep it, we could - we could get married. I’ll do everything I can to provide for the both of you, if that’s what you wanted. Not that I’m saying we should get ahead of ourselves, mind you, but it was a thought I had.”

“I can’t answer you right now about that. I don’t know.”

“Of course. I’m not trying to push you.” 

“I know you’re not.”

She disappeared and brought back the small white strip, staring down at it intently. He moved to stand beside her, seeing marks he wasn’t sure how to interpret. 

“What does it mean?”

“Means there’s nothing to talk about. False alarm.”

“Are you sure?”

“Both of them said the same thing. I’m sure.”

“Oh.” He put an arm around her. “Are you disappointed?”

“No.” He wasn’t sure if he could trust that no. “Are you?”

“Honestly? Yes. For a moment I allowed myself to consider the idea and it appealed to me more than I could have possibly imagined. A child, our child. I can’t imagine anything better.” 

The words came out in a heated rush, passionate and longing all at once. His eyes glittered with a thousand promises he had yet to make, all of the thoughts swirling in his head around a tiny phrase - what if? Even if he had wanted to he couldn’t hold them back any longer. She needed to know and the longer he held it in the more he couldn’t hold it back. A hundred looks across the room spoke of his longing. Each one had meaning that she missed or chose to ignore. The one night she’d slept in his arms he slept more deeply than he had in so long it was almost terrifying. 

“I love you. It’s painful to me that I can see you close and know you aren’t mine. Aside from one night since your return you’ve been careful not to look at me or address me unless you have to. I know I said I’d take you exactly as you wanted me to be in your life, but don’t shut me out. Can’t you see how I want you? How I love you? I would move the bloody stars if it meant making you happy. I would pull each one down from heaven and deliver them to you in boxes if it would make you smile.”

He reached for her even as she moved toward him, claiming her lips in a searing embrace. He felt things being knocked out of place as he propped her on the desk and continued to kiss her, pulling her as close to him as he could get. Not even air could pass between their bodies. He wrapped her legs around his waist and picked her up, moving her to the more comfortable option of the couch. She moaned his name and he delighted in the sound, rewarding her with deep, eager kisses. His entire being was crying out for her: body, soul, and mind. She undid his pants and adjusted only just enough to allow him access to what they both wanted. He sank in and gratified in her cry of pleasure. He set a demanding pace from the beginning, losing himself entirely to the ebb and flow of pleasure, lust, and love. She appeared to him the most alluring creature that could ever exist. She was enrapturing. 

“Ripper!” She whimpered, running her hands over his back to encourage him on.

“I’m here, dove. Whatever you want; I’m here.”

“Make love to me.”

“Faith,” he lifted up to be able to look in her eyes, smoothing the hair from her face with one hand. “I couldn’t do anything but.”

He sat up and withdrew, taking her by the hand. He guided her to stand, smoothing his hands slowly along her body. He shed her clothes with skilled hands, unhurried as he uncovered the rest of her skin. He let her return the favor, standing before her as he was. She was still absolutely beautiful and he was, well, not as young as he’d been the last time they’d been in this position. Momentary hesitation brought Rupert forward, not Ripper. 

“What are you waiting for?” 

He smiled, letting her words chase away his doubts. “Nothing, dearest.”

He slid his arm beneath her legs and lifted her easily, carrying her upstairs. He laid her on a beautiful four poster bed, strung with dark blue curtains. Settling beside her, his hand trailed down her cheek.

“I want you to be mine, Faith.”

“I’m trying.”

“It’s still my age, is it?”

“Sort of?” She rolled over to face him, though she didn’t like where this conversation was going, which was far away from the sexy times she’d envisioned. “I’ve never even had a boyfriend before. I don’t know what the hell I’m doing. The thought of having a baby scared me worse than any monster I’ve ever seen. What if I hurt you?”

“Oh, darling.” He kissed her tenderly. “You sweet, dear thing. Is that what’s holding you back?”

“Mostly.”

“Mostly?”

“You and me don’t have much in common. I don’t want to stop being who I am, and I don’t want to ask you to be someone else, either.”

“You’re right about that, but there are ways to bend. I’m sure there has to be a compromise between devil may care and as decorous as I am now.”

“Decorous?”

He laughed and nuzzled her gently. “You know very well what I mean.”

“I think I do.” She grinned. “Kiss me.”

“Gladly.”

He kissed her lovingly, allowing himself to feel hope and love and express those things in every facet of their interaction. He settled her in his lap, allowing her control if she feared losing herself to him. She maneuvered her hips to guide him inside of her, offering a leisurely pace that threatened to consume him whole. He shut his eyes, clawing at the bedclothes in attempt to do something that felt more useful than helplessly writhing beneath her. He moved in time with her gyrations, burying the full length of his diamond member into her sizzling core. Opening his eyes, he saw her staring down at him and let their eyes meet, watched her as the heat between them sparked from a flicker into a bonfire. 

“I’m close,” she moaned. 

He groaned in response, wanting to feel that remarkable occurrence again. He encouraged her along with his hands, guiding her over his solid phallus. He was nearly mad with lust, unable to control his thoughts anymore.

“Say you’re mine,” she begged. “Tell me you want me.”

“I’ve never wanted anything but you,” he managed. “I am entirely yours, Faith. I need you. I love you. Don’t stop! Please, dove, don’t stop!”

Her cries grew sharper as she approached the precipice, only to surrender to it the moment she was able. He held onto her as she plummeted, overwhelmed by the power and beauty of her climax. He bucked his hips up to take over where her orgasm made her falter. It was easy to roll them and take up a good pace again, prolonging her ecstasy as long as possible. He tilted her hips up, bending her knees to her chest, to strike as deeply as he could inside her. His own body was roaring with need, shaking from held back release. 

“Faith, I can’t, I’m going to…” He strained, thrusting hard and deep a few more times. “Ah, fuck!” 

He exploded inside her without a moment’s hesitation. He released what felt like a flood of his seed, hard cock thrashing inside her dripping channel as he did. He rocked against her hips to milk every drop from his stony member, steadying himself through the dizzying heights of climax. He moved to collapse beside her, breathing heavily. He recovered enough to discover she was looking at him, face down on the bed with her head turned enough to peek at him from behind a curtain of her hair. 

“I love you.”

He blinked in surprise and immediately offered her a pleased, reassuring smile. He moved to draw her to him, running a hand through her dark hair.

“I want to see what this could be. I can’t promise to be good at it, or that I won’t end up hurting you, but I want to try.”

“We’ll figure it out together.”

He kissed her cheek and cuddled her while they recovered before turning to make love to her again.


	22. Obstacles and Amends

“Buffy?” He caught her in the hall, moving toward the stairs. “You’ve been tending to Willow nonstop for the past few days. Are you hungry?”

“I could eat,” she responded, shrugging.

“Get your coat. We’ll go out.”

He took her to a pretty restaurant across town, ordering a scotch when they were seated. She ordered a glass of wine, but hardly took a sip of it when it arrived. They ordered their meals and Giles looked at her, trying to decide how best to broach the subject. The direct way seemed best and he finished his drink before trying to speak.

“You know, Buffy, I’m…” He frowned, losing what he was trying to say before realigning his thoughts. “What I mean to say is that Faith and I, well, I plan on taking her on a date.”

“A date?” She lifted an eyebrow at him, giving him a look that plainly stated that it was lucky she hadn’t been drinking or else it would have ended up on the tablecloth or choked on.

“There’s no delicate way to say this but Faith and I are in love.”

“In love?”

“Yes.”

“You and Faith?”

“Yes.”

“Faith?”

He began to get annoyed, nodding. “Yes, Faith. Our Faith. The same Faith she’s been since we met her.”

Now she understood what was happening, the restaurant, his concerned eyes. He wanted to tell her somewhere public, force her to control her emotions so she wouldn’t make a scene. It was subtle, but effective, and she took a deep breath before she spoke again.

“Since when?”

“Ah, well, that’s a bit complicated.”

He spent the next few minutes trying to explain to her what had happened when the spell went amiss and how he was privy to the dealings of his younger self only in dreams. It was harder to explain the ripple effect of his feelings for her and how they’d lingered upon her return and how they’d wrestled with them before deciding that they were worth acting upon. He tried to leave out the saucier details, preferring that she not know the true extent of their relationship or of the close call they had only a few days before.

Their food came and he politely thanked their waiter, trying to hide whatever discomfort he was feeling. Once they were alone again he felt her gaze on him and made his eyes catch hers.

“You lied to me.”

“I didn’t lie. Until a few days ago I wasn’t sure there would be anything to tell.”

“What happened a few days ago?” 

Buffy’s brows knit together and he prayed that she wasn’t as clever as she seemed. Certainly she wouldn’t figure out their scare, but she might catch on that when they spent the night out alone, things had not been as innocent as they’d pretended. He was prepared to lie when she figured it out, her eyes widening and her mouth dropping open. She dropped her fork, the metal tool clattering against the porcelain plate much louder than he would have liked. 

“You two were out a long time together. Oh my God, you slept with her!” She accused.

He cringed, not for the accusation but for his British propriety. He hated to cause a scene but he hated to see her upset more. He tried to choke out something as she pushed her chair back abruptly and walked away from the table. He hastily stood and threw some money on the table, more than enough to cover their meals, and hurried after the retreating blond. He had to jog to catch up to her on the sidewalk, catching her shoulder to turn her around. He slowed to a stop, no longer caring who saw or overheard them.

“You should have told me!”

“What was I to say, Buffy? I told you as soon as I could in the gentlest way I knew how. How could I have broken this to you to avoid these feelings? What would you like me to do, pack up my heart and bury it so you can be more comfortable?”

“It’s unnatural,” she complained. “You’re old and she’s...she’s Faith!”

“I beg your pardon?” He bristled. “Need I remind you that both Spike and Angel could have fathered your grandfather?”

“That was different?”

“How?”

She looked at him but failed to give a verbal response. There was no difference and they both knew it. His expression softened and he put his hand on her cheek, his look fond. With so much history between them it was impossible not to want her support in something like this.

“I don’t need your permission, Buffy, but I would like your support. I daresay, we both would. I know your history with her is complicated but she’s trying to make amends. She’s growing and has been a good ally to us in our time of need.”

He pulled her into a hug and ran his hand lightly up and down her back. People passed by them on the sidewalk but he hardly brought himself to care. For a long time she was the star he fixed his course by and though they had their pitfalls along the way he still considered her one of the most important people in the world to him. When he pulled away the soulful look he gave her made her think twice before she spoke again. There were words, an avalanche of feelings sliding down the slippery slope of fear and anger. 

“This may be my last chance at love.” He looked down for a moment before looking up at her again. “It’s unexpected, but after Jenny I didn’t think the chance would come again. It scares me, but not nearly so much as letting the opportunity slip through my fingers.”

“But you’re supposed to be mine!” 

Her eyes flushed with tears to meet his questioning look. 

“You’re still going to be my Slayer, Buffy.”

“It’ll be different. You don’t see it, but I know it will be. She’s a Slayer, too, and if you’re with her, you won’t need me.”

“Of course I will.” 

He reached for her again, not knowing where this was coming from. She shrugged away from his grip, taking two steps back, out of his reach. She quickly brushed away a few stray tears. When she explained, her tone was low. 

“You left me before.” 

His heart dropped into his shoes, so that’s what this was all about. He shook his head.

“No, Buffy, I’m not leaving you again. When I left before it was because I saw you relying more on me than you were on yourself and I knew you were stronger than you thought. My love for you is such that if you call on me, I’ll fight whatever battles I can to spare you any suffering. I didn’t leave you because I no longer cared, the opposite. I left because I cared too much and I couldn’t be your crutch, though I would have been whenever you needed me.”

He realized it was the first time he’d admitted to his love of her aloud, to more than himself. He actually felt relieved to have it spoken, though he had been careful about it before. Without the Council around to wag their fingers, there was no sense in pretending that things were otherwise. It took a few minutes of stressful waiting for her to respond. When she did she simply put her arms around him and held him tightly, burying her face in his jacket. He carefully put his arms around her and held her in return for as long as it took for her to feel comforted. She drew away looking quite a bit better. 

“What can I do?”

“Talk to her. She could use the inclusion and the reassurance. I think she’s worried where you’ll stand in all of this.”

The Slayer nodded, trying not to look pleased by that. “I’ll try. I’m not saying I’m free of wiggins, but I’ll try for you.”

“It’s all I ask.”


	23. An Understanding

“Faith!” 

The blond jogged ahead on the street to catch up to the brunette. The night was late but there were still people on the road. Vampires were still awake and at play and the Slayers were needed to keep people safe. Faith was crossing town to one of the largest cemeteries in London. She let Buffy walk alongside her, offering a nod of acknowledgment. It was silent for a long minute, both of them searching for something to say. 

“Slow night?” 

Buffy broke the silence first, heading with her into a tube station. It was the fastest way to get anywhere and they’d both been in the city long enough to know which trains to take. Faith shrugged in response. She’d killed two vampires so far, but that was slow as far as she was concerned. Every muscle was coiled beneath the skin, not sure how to act. She knew Giles told her what they were up to and, by proxy, the others knew now, too. There was nothing Buffy didn’t tell her best friends and she’d had no interest in seeing judgment in their eyes. For the most part she’d avoided the Scoobies the last few days, making catching her difficult.

“So...you and Giles.”

“Yeah?” She looked sideways, further on edge and the blond saw it. 

“Just don’t hurt him, ok?”

“Him?” She bristled. “What if he hurts me?”

“Then we go out and party until you’ve forgotten all about him.”

“Yeah?”

“I don’t have a team here. I’m sidelines Buffy, ok? Just call me Switzerland.”

“Switzerland?”

“Cause they were neutral, you know?”

“Oh.”

The train came and the blond moved to get on it but the brunette didn’t. She got a strange look but held fast as the doors opened and people got out. They streamed past the two of them toward the stairs upward. The doors closed and the train pulled away again, leaving the two Slayers on the platform. 

“What’s wrong? That was the right train.”

“Why are you being so nice to me?”

“What?” 

“You heard me!”

“I’m just trying to do the right thing.”

“The right thing? You could have done the right thing years ago, B. I’ve been here, waiting.”

“There were other things back then. I was so angry at you for everything that happened.”

“You were angry? My whole life had fallen apart. You were the only person in the world who could have understood what I was going through. They all think they understand what this means, who we are. They think they help, but they don’t get it.”

“Faith, I -”

“I needed you.”

“What?” Buffy’s head bolted straight up, her eyes meeting the other woman’s. 

“I needed you in my corner. You could have been my sister and I needed you, B. You abandoned me.”

“I was young.” She shook her head, knowing that excuses weren’t going to cut it this time. “You’re right. I didn’t know what to do so I pulled away. I didn’t look back. You were everything I didn’t want to be and at first being in your world felt good. It was fun not caring about the rules. I felt free. But things changed so fast and suddenly you were dangerous. I didn’t try to reach you. I didn’t know how.”

“I know. I’m not…” She trailed off and sighed, running her hand through her hair as she looked at Buffy. “I’m not mad anymore. I’ve been talking to Giles and he’s been helping me work on some stuff. I just wanted you to know how it felt back then. I’m trying to be honest.”

“I get it. I wish I’d been honest more often back then. Maybe you and I could have been friends.”

“We still could.”

“Totally.” She nodded enthusiastically. “That’s a thing that can happen.”

“I don’t want to hurt him, you know.”

“I get that. I don’t think he wants to hurt you either. He seems to really love you.”

“You think?”

“I know.” She grinned. “You should know that better than I do.”

“I’m not good with stuff like this; are you kidding?”

The blond nodded, shrugging about catching the next train and trying to patrol anymore that night. There was a chill in the air and the moon was mostly covered over by clouds. They headed back up to the street and began walking in no particular direction, side by side. Faith had her hands in her pockets, her head tilted down. Her eyes were on the sidewalk in front of her and not on the street. 

“What was it like?”

“What?”

“Ripper. Being in the seventies.”

“Oh. It was...surprising.”

When she trailed off Buffy looked at her sidelong. She nudged her gently with her shoulder, grinning, to prompt her into continuing. She was eager to hear what Giles had been like. The only version of Ripper she’d seen was the one inspired by the band candy and he’d been tough to take. Somehow or other, though, the version she’d met not only made her fall in love, but fell in love with her, too. There had to be more to the story that Giles didn’t tell her, some details she hadn’t heard yet. 

Or, maybe she just wanted to know what about him made Faith fall in love. She’d never even heard about her with a boyfriend before so choosing him seemed...unlikely. 

“I don’t know what you want to hear, B. He was strong. Confident. After awhile I forgot he was the same man from the present. It’s...it’s hard to explain. I could talk to him, you know? He trusted me. Told me things about his life.”

“Like?”

“Like what happened between him and Ethan. I don’t know, stuff.”

“Ethan? Ethan Rayne? Creeper Ethan?”

“I guess so. The guy he used to hang out with.”

“So what happened between him and Ethan.”

“Pretty sure you should be asking him that.”

“You know he won’t tell me!”

“What makes you think I should?”

“We’re supposed to be friends now, gossiping and all that.”

She laughed as the other girl wheedled. She didn’t think he’d appreciate her giving away his secrets and stayed silent, no matter how she pleaded. Even though she didn’t mind telling the stories, they weren’t hers to tell and she knew it. After a while she gave up, lapsing into sullen silence with a playful pout. 

“I would have been wigged, if it were me.”

“I was at first. I got over it. It was easy to do after a while. He wasn’t anything like he is now. I think he was, I don’t know, freer? He was confident and didn’t sweat the details.”

“Are you sure we’re talking about the same Giles?”

“Yep. Same guy. Only….not the same, too.”

“I wonder what changed?”

“The Council. His dad. I met the guy and he was no joke. Seriously hard core.”

“You met his dad?” Her eyes widened in amazement.

“Yeah. And his butler.”

“He had a butler?”

“His dad did.” 

She remembered the confrontation between the two of them and wondered a little if that rift had ever been mended. The other girl was beginning to understand that things between the couple ran deeper than she had realized. She knew there was a lot about it that she would probably never know as Faith was tight lipped to begin with and Giles just didn’t talk about himself much. At least to them it worked and that was enough to satisfy her. 

“Oh, here’s our street.”

The brunette looked up and saw their street sign, pointing the way to the townhouse they all were sharing. There wasn’t enough room for all of them but they were making due for now. At least until Willow recovered, it was their home. She turned to go home and saw her companion not following. 

“You coming, B?”

“No, uh, Willow, Xander, and I were going to go get some food after patrol. I’m meeting them at that diner Giles likes. You can come if you want. Or you could go home, alone, to the house with Giles in it.”

“Subtle,” she observed with a grin.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” The grin was returned.

“Night, B.”

“We’ll probably be home by midnight.”

“Noted.”

She looked at her watch. It was ten. She picked up the pace and jogged the rest of the way to the townhouse, pushing open the door eagerly. She made a slight rukus closing it and taking off her shoes and jacket, only to have a confused Watcher appear at the top of the entry. 

“Faith what’s -”

He was silenced by her lips on his. The confusion had little time to settle before it was completely overrun by lust. He returned her kiss with passion, wrapping an arm around her and keeping her close. He pulled away after a moment to give her a confused, but appreciative, look.

“How was patrol?”

“Is that really what you want to know?” She quirked an eyebrow at him.

“How did things go with Buffy?”

“Fine.”

“Fine?”

“We have her blessing, if we wanted it.”

She kissed him again, her hands working at the waistband of his pants before he pulled away. This time she frowned, putting her hands on her hips as he tried to straighten himself out. She wasn’t sure why he was being so resistant but it was annoying. She wanted him, and she wanted him now. He stammered as he explained, obviously flustered by the attention and his inability to give into temptation.

“Willow and Xander went out but they’re bound to be home any minute.”

“Not until midnight.”

“How do you know?”

“B told me. We have two hours; are you in or out?”

He gave her an intrigued look followed by a wolfish grin. “Do you think it’s enough time?”

“Not hardly, but we’ll make due.”

“Bloody right we will.”


	24. Stepping Forward

“Faith?”

He kissed up her spine, smiling against her skin in the fresh light of day. She looked beautiful bathed in the morning light and he enjoyed the spill of her hair down her bare skin. She let out a soft noise, slow to wake as usual, and tried to shrug him away. His body was cushioned against hers, drawing heat and comfort from her solid form. He chuckled and moved his kisses to along her shoulder and up her neck, gentle caresses of his lips.

“After last night you’re still ready for more?” She let out a sleepy, surprised sound, opening her eyes to see the empty box of condoms on the bedside table. They’d run out the night before. “We’ll need more of those. You’re a machine, G.”

They’d been rather active in the last few weeks, it took a lot to satisfy a Slayer, and he’d dutifully tried to remember condoms when they were both lost in the moment because of their recent scare. He probably ought to have bought stock in one of the companies, as much as they went through the things. The waste basket had no few wrappers in it, which he was horrified to think of the others seeing if they came into the room. At the moment he was rather appalled by her frank talk, despite his sex life being a record breaking high of recent years.

“Good heavens, Faith!” He eeped out, blushing a furious shade of red. “We were, we were certainly passionate last night but that wasn’t what I, ah, I wasn’t trying to...”

Truthfully, he’d probably need a day or two to recover, focusing on her needs in the meantime. It was his way to be easy and affectionate, especially with those he loved, and that wasn’t something he’d had a chance to show for a very long time. They had shared a bed every night this month. He reveled in the feeling of her next to him in the night, staying awake sometimes just to watch her sleep. Occasionally, though it didn’t happen often, she curled against him while she slept and he would wake when she did, drawing her into his arms. There was nothing better than that, nothing he had ever felt before that compared to the knowledge that she loved him and trusted him enough to begin to be truly affectionate, even if it was just when they were alone. She smiled for him and lit up the room, along with his heart. 

“I’m awake,” she grumbled. 

“I’m sorry to wake you.” 

“No you’re not,” she complained, but playfully.

“No, I’m not.” He agreed with a chuckle.

“If I didn’t know better, G, I’d think you were trying to turn me into a morning person.” 

“Perish the thought.” He sighed softly, though he was a morning person at heart. “I’ll go make you coffee in a moment.” 

She turned over to face him finally, drawing the blankets up her body to cover her bare chest. The brief flash of it made his blood begin to simmer all over again, though he’d had quite his fill the night before. It was a testament to who she was that he wanted her so endlessly. Little things she did set him off, heating him up to near boiling until he thought he might combust for his desire of her. It was hard to keep it off his face, in his manner, to try to save any of the gang from discomfort. He was no longer a young man to be caught up at every turn, but for some reason she effortlessly reduced him to a randy schoolboy with just a look or a touch. 

God bless youth.

“Are the others here?” She sat up and tugged a hand through her hair, letting the blankets fall before reaching to pick up her shirt. It had been cast aside carelessly the night before. 

“No. I think I heard them heading out early. They’re hunting for a flat of their own, as it happens.”

“Yeah?”

Was this her cue to exit? She looked at him for a moment with wide eyes and then moved to get her pants. He didn’t catch the look and sat up on his own, trying to shake the last of the sleep from his mind. He reached for the loose pants that served as his pajamas, tugging them on for the morning routine. True to his word he went to the kitchen and put a pot of coffee on to brew for her, making tea for himself. By the time she managed to wander into the kitchen he had toast on the table and a steaming cup of black coffee beside it. 

“We really should talk about our living arrangements,” he commented softly, coming to sit across from her.

“I can be out anytime you want me to, G.”

“Rupert,” he corrected. “And why ever would you think I wanted you to leave?”

“Isn’t that what you’re hinting at? I know you like your privacy and we’ve all been here for a long time now.”

“You silly thing!” He got up to come up in front of her and crouched down to be able to look her in the eyes before kissing her sweetly. “I love you. I’m trying to ask you to stay. I rather hoped you would, if you wanted to.”

“That’s -” Immediately a large stab of panic pierced her chest. She couldn’t shake the fear being in a real adult relationship sometimes brought. “It’s a big step.”

“I think we’re ready to make it. I want to spend every moment with you that I can.”

He took both of his hands in hers and held them. He gave her one of his most reassuring smiles and tried not to make it seem like he was pressuring her. That was the furthest thing from his mind, knowing how something like this could spook her. A month was a small amount of time and though it was working for now, he had to be careful. 

“You can have your own room, if you like, if that’s what makes this ok for you.” 

She slept in his bed nearly every night, but so long as she had a space to call her own, maybe it would soften the blow, so to speak. She often worried about how different they were, and how they could bend to make sure both of their interests could be best served. Some nights he read to her while they sat on the couch. Some nights they watched bad movies on the television together. And on rare nights he dressed down and ventured out to the clubs she enjoyed going to in London and danced with her until he could no longer tolerate the music. 

He’d made the mistake once of encouraging her to find other dance partners. She had, plenty of them, and he had not accounted for the flare of wild, red jealousy that overtook him when he watched some other young man’s hand travel to her backside. He’d been quick to the dancefloor, ripping the hand off of her and dragging her away. She’d protested, eyes angry, before he gathered her in his arms and kissed her with fiery, unbridled passion. He’d taken her right there in the alley beside the club, pressed to a wall with her legs around his waist, hardly a thought in his head except that she was his and how much he needed her to remain his.

Maybe it had been fear, more than jealousy, that she’d wake and come to her senses that she was about ten times out of his league. Whatever the reason she’d praised him for being so reckless when they were done and had happily gone home with him after, the club forgotten in their newly kindled passion. He took to letting her go out on her own after that sometimes, taking care never to ask questions he did not want the answers to except to goad him into being somewhat impetuous with her. 

“If you want me to stay, I’ll stay.” 

He broke into a wide grin, moving to kiss her again and let it linger. “That’s brilliant, Faith! We’ll move your things in properly this afternoon. Did you want your own room?”

“That might be best. I mean, we don’t always keep the same hours.”

He nodded, already resigned to whatever she wanted. “That’s fine. The others won’t need the spare.” 

She looked pensive for a moment and he was worried she might change her mind. He was about to speak when she looked up and caught his eyes. He melted for her instantly, drawn in to every feature he’d been able to trace in his sleep for weeks. She filled his senses more potent than any smell, any trigger to memory. 

“Why don’t you live in your parent’s house? I know you own it. It just sits there empty.”

He gave her a hapless shrug. “I suppose I still think of it as their house.”

She nodded, remembering the few times she’d been there. She could imagine it as somewhere he could live, but not somewhere she’d be comfortable. There were too many valuable things to be broken, floors to scuff. She hardly thought about that here in their carpeted flat on the outskirts of central London. It seemed like the kind of place meant to be lived in, not simply meant to be seen. They were a clash of genres when she thought about it but, like music, somehow they could fit together and create a beautiful melody. 

“Would you like to go on a much deserved mini holiday? We can spend the weekend at the country house in Bath. It’s a little off the beaten path but I think you’ll like the horses. Truthfully, I haven’t been there in some time. It would be nice to see the old place again.”

She quirked an eyebrow at him for a moment but nodded. “Alright.”

“Brilliant! If you can be packed we can leave in an hour or two. I’d like to let Buffy know we’re off.” 

“Don’t you think, I dunno, they might get...jealous?”

He stopped stock still at the question. Truthfully, he hadn’t thought of that, so wrapped up in his plans with her that he’d failed to consider the others. He wanted to be considerate of their feelings, of his relationship with them all, but right now he was a man in love and wanted to spend his time showing her all of the wonderful things in his world. He’d promised Buffy he wouldn’t abandon her and they’d all been spectacular in accommodating the change. Xander had taken a little time to come to terms with their relationship, he was the last to give his vocal consent, but by now as much as they may not have understood it, they accepted it as real.

“Well, perhaps they might want to join us in a day or two. I, ah, hadn’t thought about it, to tell the truth.”

“We don’t have to be just the two of us.”

“I invited you. I’d like to spend some time alone.”

No wondering when the others would be home. No muffling her throaty moans of passion into a pillow and praying it stopped the noise from reaching beyond their bedroom. No tiptoeing when he simply wanted to tug her into his arms and curl up with her on the couch watching some old movie. No jokes or giggles stifled when they were caught in the middle of a kiss. His flat was entirely too small to harbor five full adults, two of them starting a new relationship. 

“Next time,” he promised finally. “This one is for us. Besides, it’ll give them more room while they search for a place of their own.” 

“Like anyone is going to sleep in our bed.”

He looked sternly at her before laughing richly along with the joke. “We’ll wash the sheets before we go.”

“The sheets? Hell, we should bleach the mattress.”

The red on his cheeks had him quickly retreating from the room with equal parts amusement and mortification.


	25. A Little Time Away

Traffic on the way to the cottage was light, but that didn’t stop Faith from dozing on the way there. She curled up in the seat like a cat, blessed with that extraordinary gift to be able to make herself comfortable practically anywhere she went. She woke as they turned into the driveway, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. The dirt road probably should have been paved a long time ago, but he rather liked keeping it natural and bumpy. Anyway, he wasn’t there often enough for it to be a real bother. Chatworth, the caretaker of the property, would have more of a right to be troubled by the old country road than he was. 

They passed by a large stone manor: great elm trees on either side of an impressive, wide entrance. Stone columns rose up to a second story, holding up a gabled roof. It was comprised of brown stone, large two story windows stretched up on the left side and she almost swore she could see into the house. She didn’t have to actually go in to know it was probably furnished with every bit of the traditional English elegance she’d come to expect from the rich and powerful up here. As she took it all in and he watched her from the corner of his eye. It sat back a ways from the road with its own smoother pathway worn into the grass lane but was still intimidating even from this distance.

“It’s like something out of Wuthering Heights or Jane Eyre, isn’t it?”

She shrugged, unfamiliar with the references. He made a mental note to add them to the list of books they read together on quiet evenings. 

“Who lives there?”

“No one, save maybe the caretaker. It’s been there a very long time but no one makes much use of it these days.”

“You know the owners?”

They rounded the corner on the lane and approached a small wooden cottage nestled against a backdrop of trees with full crowns of leaves. He stopped the car in front of it and cut the engine. The manor was only a stone’s throw from where they were with a large stable up ahead on the road and a field for the horses to graze behind it. He glanced back to where the house was hidden by trees and distance from them now.

“I own it, Faith.”

“You what?”

“It’s a family home. The house is well over two hundred years old and has been in our family for as long. We used to summer here when I was a boy. I hardly have the time to come out and care for the place as I would like so I’ve hired someone to make sure the horses are taken care of and that it stays in good repair.”

“Just how loaded are you?” She breathed, not fully understanding the scope of his wealth before that moment. She’d had this conversation with Ripper, but the concept hadn’t sunk in. It was all well and good to think he was well to do and judging from his parents’ townhouse well to do was an understatement but it had just never occurred to her to think of him as the type of wealthy that had multiple properties, horses, and all that other rich person stuff.

“Very, ah, but it hardly matters.”

“Hardly matters? Do you own airplanes and shit, too?”

“Good heavens, no, Faith! I don’t need anything so extravagant as that. I suppose I ought to sell that manor, but I keep it out of nostalgia. I had good memories there as a boy.”

Once upon a time he had thought of taking his own family there someday and creating new memories full of life and laughter and though he hadn’t yet admitted it aloud those hopes were slowly taking root again with her.

He got out of the car and managed the luggage, carrying it to the groundskeeper’s cottage that he much preferred staying in these days when he came to visit. Let Chatworth enjoy the comforts of the main house and its ten magnificent bedrooms. He did nicely in the small one bedroom house nearer to the stables. Pushing open the door and setting the bags down inside, he looked around. It was a bit dusty, but he could fix that with a little bit of work. Faith walked in afterward, looking around. Downstairs was mainly just one large room, a small kitchen tucked away in one corner with a table for dining next to it. In front of them was a living room with rows of bookshelves on one wall, filled to the brim with his favorite books. There was a couch, chairs, and even a television set but the reception was terrible whenever the weather was anything but sunny and clear. 

“Home sweet home.”

He knew it would be a bit of a shock for her since nearly everything electronic had some sort of practical purpose and not an entertaining one. The most entertaining electrical device in the entire place was the record player tucked away on a table. He saw his guitar sitting on its stand next to the bookshelves and resisted the urge to pick it up and begin to play. Instead, he turned to his companion. 

“The bedroom is upstairs. The bathroom is next to it if you need it. The water is, ah, a little tricky. When you want to have a shower let me know and I’ll show you how to adjust it so it doesn’t freeze you out halfway through. It’s happened to me before and it was...unpleasant.”

She smiled, and he was pleased to note the vase of flowers Chatworth must have left for him when he telephoned ahead to ask that it be stocked for their visit. The pantry was full of staples, enough to get by for the weekend. He was confident he could show her a good time, anyway. 

“Would you like to meet the horses?”

“Yeah.” Her neutral tone was betrayed by the shining of her eyes.

He led them the short walk down the lane to the stables. He pulled open the large wooden door and stepped inside, greeted by the wickering of some of his favorite creatures on Earth and the clean, sweet scent of hay. He walked up to the large black gelding in his pen and greeted him with a smile and a fresh apple from the basket on the wall. He jutted his snout forward, neck high and proud as he greeted his owner, taking the apple from his hand. He greeted the mare by her side in similar fashion, offering her the other apple.

“Faith, this is Emmeline,” he motioned to the gray dappled mare. “And that’s Coal.”

He turned and noticed she hadn’t moved very close to their pens, lingering closer to the door than to the horses. A thought occurred to him; he didn’t believe it. Was she...afraid?

“They’re quite civilized, I assure you.” He smiled and gently drew her closer, starting with the gentler, and older, mare. He handed her an apple and motioned to the eager horse. “Hold it out with your hand flat. She’ll be happy of the treat.”

He grew up around horses for most of his young life. It was hard to imagine someone who hadn’t been this close to them before. Of course, she was born and bred in Boston. The closest she probably came to horses was the occasional horse patrol. It was sweet to see her timidly holding out the apple and her smile of delight when the horse took it and nudged her hand in thanks. She reached up and slowly, hesitantly, stroked the downy fur of her muzzle. 

“It’s soft,” she observed with a quiet sort of awe in her tone.

“Would you like to brush her? I’m afraid it’s been a while since they’ve had more than just Chatworth to tend them. They could stand a good run, I expect.”

“Could I?” 

Her eyes shone and he nodded silently, moving to get the brush from a bin. He looped a lead around her and led her from the pen. Emmeline was all too willing to follow, a good, obedient horse. He tied her to a post and let Faith stand by her side. He stood behind her and took her hand in his, showing her how to draw the brush down her coat in long, smooth sweeps. It was as if her walls had dropped entirely and he looked on as she bonded with the horse, drawing the brush over her glossy coat with more patience than he’d ever seen her show for anything else in the world. After a minute of watching, sure she’d catch on and give him flak for it, he took Coal out and gave him the same treatment. He checked their hooves, on by one, and simply acquainted himself with the animals. 

This was the happiest he’d been in a very long time. He couldn’t imagine anything better, in fact, than a simple life like this with the woman he loved. 

“We could go for a ride,” he suggested. “I bet this beast is aching to run.”

“I’ve never ridden a horse before.”

“You’re a Slayer, Faith. I hardly think there’s anything physical you can’t take to easily.”

“I could take up knife throwing. You could hold a balloon in your mouth.” 

He blanched, offering her a thin smile as he pictured it before chuckling in defeat. “As much as I trust you, darling, perhaps not that.”

“Psh!” She grinned. “Ye of little faith.”

He laughed richly at that, helping her saddle up the mare in front of her. Emmeline was gentle, but young enough to have some spirit and he thought she was well matched to her rider. He swung up onto his own horse, letting her get settled before heading out. He started at a walk, watching her quickly adapt to the sway of the horse. They headed up the lane past the manor toward the woods. The lane turned into a wooded trail, moving deeper through the trees in a well worn path, somewhat grown over now that he’d spent a long time away. With pride he saw her taking to it like a champ, holding herself upright in the saddle like she’d been born to it. 

“It’s pretty,” she commented, coming along beside him.

“Not as pretty as you are, my love.”

She rolled her eyes, but a bit of color rose to her cheeks as well as a smile that tugged the corners of her mouth up. She urged Emmeline to pick up the pace, letting out a delighted laugh when the animal moved to a trot. Her companion watched in amazement as she bounded by as if she’d done this a hundred times. He urged his own mount forward and the large stallion leaped at the chance to use all of its pent up energy. It bolted down the lane past the mare and the surprised slayer. The even more surprised watcher realized he was charging ahead at a full run and bent low in the saddle, not reigning the beast in. They could always circle back and meet her in a minute. For now he just wanted to experience the thrill of the run. 

Tree branches whipped past the pair and he was glad to be bent low to avoid most of them. Wind sped past his ears, roaring as he and the horse blazed down familiar trails he’d run a thousand times as a boy. There was no stone here unfamiliar, no foreign sights. These woods he knew intimately. A giddy bubble formed in his stomach as he let go of his worries and simply rode further into the woods than he’d been intending. He pulled up on the reins to slow Coal before coming to a stop. The horse stamped impatiently, wanting to continue running for as far as its rider would let it go. 

“We have to go back for Emmeline and Faith,” he told the stallion, empathizing with his impatience all too well. The black horse tossed its head and Giles looked up to see the brown mare and his lover riding toward them rather quickly. Of course she’d master running and he felt his chest swell with pride to see her. Her horse slowed without her rider saying so, coming to a stop in front of the others. Faith looked winded, her skin a little red because she hadn’t ducked down enough to escape the branches, but otherwise she seemed to be alright. She was grinning.

“No wonder you dig this, G. It’s amazing.”

“I thought you might enjoy it. Here, follow me. We’ll go slowly this time.”

He turned his horse back up the trail, riding through a clearing to a field. There were wildflowers everywhere and a stream bubbling from its origin in the woods. It emptied into a small, clear pond with large, flat rocks along the shore. There was a large tree near the boulders along the stream’s edge. He pulled a blanket from his saddle bag and laid it beneath the tree so they could escape the warm sun. 

“I hadn’t intended for us to come this far out. If I had, I might have planned better and made a picnic for us.”

“It’s fine.” 

He stripped his overshirt, reclining in the grass in a tee shirt. He’d long since lost his sense of modesty when it came to her. She smiled, approving, and went to the water’s edge. A small sheen of sweat glistened over her chest. His eyes watched with keen interest as she stripped her own top and shorts, tossing them back in his direction with a wink. She dipped her toe into the water and found that the cool stream felt good with the sun beating overhead. 

“It’s liable to be cold if you submerge yourself,” he warned. “We haven’t had enough good days yet to warm it through.

“Noted.” 

She waded into the water anyway, getting up to her waist at the center of the stream. She turned around, showing no hint of cold on her face.

“You sure?”

Getting up, he lost his shoes and padded over to the water’s edge, bending to dip his fingers in. The very shallow water seemed nice enough but he knew it wouldn’t - He yelped, stumbling back from the water’s edge as a wave of his flew at him and struck him in the chest. The Slayer smirked, ducking to swim away toward the pond leaving him sputtering on the bank.

“Faith! That was entirely uncalled for!”

She turned, treading water now that she was in a place to do so, a distance from him now. 

“What are you going to do about it, Rupert?”

Well, that couldn’t stand. He stripped off his clothes in short order, wading into the water in his boxers. He regretting allowing her to goad him immediately, freezing as soon as he reached his hips in depth. It was too late to back away from the challenge now, pulling himself toward her with steady, strong strokes. The exertion helped warm him and her challenge helped keep him motivated. She laughed, submerging herself entirely to swim underwater, looking like some exotic water nymph with her brown hair streaming behind her, glimmering with the water and sunlight. He’d have been dumbstruck if he weren’t so determined to pay her back for her prank. 

He caught her as they reached a shallower part of the pond. His arms reached around her waist and hauled her out of the water, swinging her around with a deep, rich laugh of his own. She answered with the same, completely absorbed in their games.

“I’ve caught you,” he purred. 

“Yeah? What now?”

He set her on her feet and turned her around, kissing her deeply. She returned it with ardor, moaning softly against his lips. He tugged her close, cupping the back of her head with his hand and savoring the warmth of her body next to his.

“Some revenge,” she observed, pulling away to nibble at his neck.

“The revenge bit is -”

He left her alone, turning to swim quickly in the direction he’d come from, leaving her standing there unsatisfied. She stared after him, eyes wide and mouth dropped open. 

“Hey!” 

Her mind finally kicked her and she sped after him, closing the distance with very little trouble. She caught him as he started wading out to the bank, tackling him and sending them both down into the water. He took a mouthful, coming up coughing with her latched around him.

“Are you trying to drown me?” He demanded, though there was a laugh in his tone. 

“Maybe…”

He wasn’t reassured. He moved to get onto the shore to avoid the danger of drowning sitting on one of the sun warmed boulders to dry off. She followed after, dripping onto the ground as the horses grazed nearby, unperturbed by the antics of their riders. She moved to sit next to him, leaning her head against his shoulder. He leaned back onto the rock, bringing her with him and closing his eyes against the sun. 

“You are truly beautiful, Faith. I feel twenty years younger with you. I don’t know how I’ve gotten so lucky; I hardly feel I deserve it.”

“You deserve it. More than.”

He turned to kiss her and by the time he was finished with her the sun was setting and the horses were impatient to get home to their dinner.


	26. A Plan and a Question

His life was changing. 

Over the past few months he found himself less as the man who kept to himself and more as a man who saw life and love all around him. He felt himself looking around his flat and spying things that weren’t there before that added color and vitality to the entire house. He spotted her jacket lying over the back of the couch. On the table next to him was a picture of the both of them on a date at the zoo. There was evidence of their life together everywhere and her room was now only that in name as she spent all of her nights in his bed. All this time he was a man living in delirium, happier than he could have ever imagined being before. It took a little bit of adjusting, he moved into their bedroom and picked up some clothes they’d discarded before bed the night before that did not manage to make it to the basket and tidied up. He passed pictures of all of them together, his entire family, hanging along the hall. 

The photograph on his side of the bedside table caught his eye. It was only of her, a close up of her face. She was smiling, her chin tilted down to catch the light. It made his heart into putty every time he looked at it. The picture of her side of the bed was just as important. It was of the both of them together, taken by one of the gang on a group outing. He was standing behind her, his arms around her waist. They were both smiling. Every day he found another reason to love her, another to love his life, and thought he was doing rather well at balancing his duties to her and his duties to the others, as well as the greater good. 

It was in that belief that he had the box sitting innocuously in his nightstand drawer. He opened the drawer and picked it up for the twentieth time since he picked it up from the store. He opened the box and looked down at the ring nestled inside. He’d had it designed with her in mind, platinum band and a ruby as the main stone circled by onyx stones, not thinking of her as a traditional diamond kind of a girl. If she wanted one, of course, he had no objections. He smiled down at it, waiting for the moment when it could fulfill its purpose. It seemed like forever to wait for the chance, though they were going out that night. 

“I’m home!”

His eyes widened and he quickly shut the box, stuffing it in the drawer before she could come in and catch him with it. She came in only a few moments later carrying a garment bag and another two from Harrods. She handed him his credit card back, having had no trouble using it in the store.

“Do I still have some money left, dearest?” He teased. 

“No but once you see everything on me tonight you might change your mind about caring.”

“I’d rather take it off of you.”

“That can be arranged. Later. I bought it; I’m wearing this bad boy.”

“Now whatever shall we do until then?”

“Buffy called. You should probably check in on her.”

He sighed but it wasn’t because he didn’t want to check on his Slayer. It was because he didn’t want to be preoccupied from their teasing. Obediently he moved to call Buffy, kissing her on the cheek as he passed. He agreed to meet her for lunch, taking the opportunity to slip into his bedroom to grab the ring while Faith was in the shower. He tapped lightly on the door before leaving.

“I’m going to have lunch with Buffy, love. I’ll be home in plenty of time for our date.”

“Ok! Don’t be late.”

He stared at the door, knowing it was much more likely that she’d be late than he would but didn’t say anything, smiling as he moved toward the door. He took a taxi across town to where Buffy was rooming with Willow and Xander. She met him at a little cafe nearby, hugging him when he came close. They’d all come to terms with their relationship a long time ago and no longer had any trouble with it. She smiled.

“You glow. You’re glowy. Spill!”

“Let’s sit down first.”

They went inside and sat as a charming little table in the corner. He didn’t much care what he ate so long as it was something, realizing how long ago his breakfast had been. Once they were settled she looked up at him again eagerly.

“Alright, tell me what’s going on.”

“Oh!”

He reached into his pocket and sheepishly set the ring on the table between them. She dutifully took it and opened the box, sufficiently impressed by the beautiful ring. She set it back down and gave him a much more meaningful look this time.

“You think you’re ready for this?”

He nodded. “I want to spend the rest of my life with her, Buffy.”

“And you think she’s on board?”

“I certainly hope so!” Though, now that she’d said something he had a momentary stab of doubt casting panic over his entire being.

“Giles, chill!” She commanded. “I’m sure it’ll be good. When are you asking?”

“Tonight, with any luck.”

“You scared?”

“Yes.” He laughed, shrugging helplessly. “I’ve never actually done this before.”

“She loves you. I still don’t get why it makes sense, but it seems to. It works for you guys.”

“Are you saying you’re ok with this?”

She considered it a moment before nodding. “Yeah. At least I know she won’t make me wear pink in the wedding.”

“A mercy,” he teased.

“Seriously, Giles, I’m happy for you.”

“Thank you, Buffy. I’m rather happy, too.”

“I can tell. It’s good.”

He cleared his throat, wiping the dopey look from his face as he gazed at her. “How have you been?”

“Out of place.”

“How so?”

“Well, on the Slayer front things are just peachy but with everything else…”

“I thought you and Willow were working together.”

“Yeah, we are. And that’s another thing. I think she’s unhappy.”

“Unhappy?” This was the first he’d heard of that. “Whatever do you mean?”

“Well, this isn’t exactly what we both expected, you know, career wise.”

“Ah.”

“I think she wants to go back to school.”

“Do you?”

“I don’t know. I felt kind of aimless there at first but now that it looks like I’ll be in this for the long haul, maybe it’s not a bad idea.”

“What’s stopping you?”

“Money.” She looked out the window, frowning thoughtfully. “And it’s not like I can get my transcripts from my SATs or from Adams.”

“Ah.” Getting records from the middle of a smoking crater didn’t seem like it was too likely of a scenario.

“Can’t Willow just do...whatever it is she does on her computer?”

“Giles, are you suggesting that she make them up?”

“No!” Their waitress came over with their food and he took a moment, quieting before responding again. “Though it would solve a problem.”

“But there’s the other problem.”

“Consider yourselves taken care of. If you can get into university, I’ll pay the tuition.”

“It’s too much.” But her eyes began to glisten all the same.

“Nonsense. Consider it back pay from the Council. It’s the least I can do, to further your education.”

“I accept,” she decided. “I totally accept.”

“Good. I should like you to be as happy as I am, Buffy, whatever that takes.”

“Thank you.”

The rest of their lunch passed pleasantly, with conversation about other things. He paid the check when it was finished, smiling ear to ear and not just because of his plan. That helped, but he was also happy to be of use to his Slayer and the family he’d kept for so long. He whistled a happy tune as he walked up the stairs to his building, thinking he was bound to give himself away if he kept up this type of behavior. He tried to stifle it as he got in the door.

“Darling?” 

“Yeah?”

She seemed to be in her room, door closed oddly enough. He tapped on it lightly with his knuckles but didn’t move to open it.

“Can I come in?”

“No!” He heard her rustling around with something. “Not yet!”

“You don’t mean to tell me you’re getting ready already, Faith? Our reservation is in,” he consulted his watch and realized he’d spent more time with Buffy than he intended. “Oh, heavens. Nevermind. I’m going to go get ready myself.”

He hurried to his room and got his suit from the closet, hanging it on the back of the door. He took a quick shower, hogging the bathroom for a little while before changing into his suit. He emerged looking devilishly handsome dressed up for a night on the town. Tonight he had dinner planned, but someday he imagined he might convince her to see an opera with him, or a play. It would be a hard sell but he was almost certain they could reach agreeable terms. He didn’t see her door open and called as he moved to the living room.

“Faith, we’re going to be late, love!”

“Alright!”

She came in just after him and he turned in time to be dumbstruck with how she looked. The dress she chose was a daring red, flatteringly cut. It was lovely and looked perfect on her with her hair piled on her head in a becoming way. She smiled at him and he reached a hand for her as she came near. He kissed her hand, holding it as he straightened. 

“Darling, you are beautiful.”

“I’m glad you like it.”

“However much you spent wasn’t enough.”

“Wait until you see the bill.”

He grinned, thinking there was no amount of money that could make him forget the way she looked or how he felt in that moment. The ring, after all, had set him back quite a lot and was feather light in his pocket waiting for its moment to shine. The car he ordered took them to a posh restaurant uptown, the kind of place he normally abhorred but for her and the purpose of a good night, he’d make an exception. A haughty man sat them at a table nestled against the wall, providing a little privacy for their date. He handed Giles a wine list.

“Your wait herr weel be wiz zhou momentarily.”

Faith covered her mouth to stifle a giggle. The accent was obviously put on. At least, she hoped so. He left them alone and Giles smiled across the table.

“Have I mentioned you look radiant?”

“Once or twice.”

“Oh,” he blushed and cleared his throat, looking away. “Well, it bears repeating.”

He ordered a decent bottle of wine, never developing the pallette to tell one wine from the next aside from the obvious color. A wine had never once been “buttery” or “oaky” to him and did not leave hints of cayenne as a finish. He did, however, appreciate a smooth wine that was not too bitter when he indulged in that over scotch. Faith just liked alcohol but tried to take it slow tonight. 

“Would you like to dance?”

He nodded toward the dancefloor in the center of the room, couples already swaying as a live band played. He took her hand and pressed it to the small of her back, leading her to the floor. It stayed as he turned to face her, holding her hand in his. Her body was pressed tantalizingly to his, reminding him of plans yet to come in the evening. Emboldened, he spun her as the song came to an end, holding her in a graceful dip. He brought her up and kissed her lightly. Getting back to the table he waited until she was comfortable again before reaching for the ring.

“You know, darling, there’s something I wanted to ask you.”

“Yeah?”

He fumbled in his pocket, groping for the box. It was - oh good Lord it was sitting on his nightstand. He forgot to put it in his pocket before they left. The words died on his lips.

“What did you want to ask me?”

He looked up, deer in the headlights, and tried to think of a question as substitute. It would never do to propose without a ring. Bugger all! 

“I was wondering if you’d like dessert.”

“We haven’t had dinner yet.”

“Oh, I know. I meant after, you know, as you do.”

She gave him a questioning look and he felt like a fool, unable to even propose properly. Heat burned at his cheeks but he hoped it didn’t translate to color as well.

“Maybe,” she answered finally.

He made conversation with the meal, making sure she knew the night was about his love for her. When they got in their door she kicked off her shoes with a sigh of relief, stretching. She had taken him up on dessert and was just a little tipsy, the world spinning pleasantly before her eyes.

“Let’s go to the bedroom,” he suggested helpfully. 

Her eyes when from content to hungry with one suggestion. “Let’s.”

He moved ahead of her, picking up the box as soon as they got in the room. Summoning his courage, he guided her to sit on the bed in front of him.

“Ah, Faith, you know I love you, right?”

“Of course I do.” Her eyebrow quirked asking silently what had gotten into him.

“For a long time I’d resigned myself to being alone; just a consequence of the life I lead. I never thought I’d...I had no expectation to fall in love or to earn your love in return but I’m grateful. And humbled. I love you with all of my heart.” 

He knelt down, offering the box to its intended purpose. The ring glittered inside and she gasped when she saw it, meeting his eyes for the most important question he could ever ask, which was good because the longer he held it in the more imminent a concern that he might implode became.

“Will you do me the honor of becoming my wife, Faith Lehane?”

“What?” She shook her head, disbelieving. “Rupert, I - God! I can’t.”


	27. Thoughts and Fears

“What do you mean you can’t?”

She winced at the stricken look on his face, hugging herself with both arms as she stood. She couldn’t bear to look at him at all, let alone look him in the eyes. He closed the ring box and she cringed as it snapped shut, left on the bed in front of him. She didn’t dare try to answer his question, not trusting her voice not to break the moment she tried to use it. She kept her back to him; the silence was absolutely deafening. He stayed exactly where he’d proposed looking up at her, one knee still on the floor.

“Please, Faith, say something!”

“I can’t, ok?”

“But why?”

He got up and moved to her, turning her around to look at him at long last, unable to stand the pain radiating from his heart in waves. Possibly it was broken, or about to be. She yanked from his grip and put more distance between them, her arms still holding firmly to her torso. 

“Do you love me?” He asked softly, fearful.

“Of course I do!”

“Then tell me why, Faith. I don’t understand this. We’re so happy together.”

“Sure we are. For now.”

“For now?” He shook his head, his forehead wrinkling with thought. “You don’t think that will always be true?”

“Can you see me getting married, G? White dress, church, the whole nine? Cause I can’t.”

“Darling, if there’s any doubt I promise you I’ll make you such a happy bride. I love you. I’ll spend every day making sure your trust in me isn’t in vain if you’ll just let me try -”

“Who are we kidding here?”

The words echoed in his ears and in the room in a sudden outburst. Her arms finally unhooked from about her body and were now on her hips, tears sliding down her cheeks. And, something he’d never seen before, his beautiful, strong Slayer was trembling. With all his might he simply wanted to hold her despite his own confusion and pain. This was all simply a misunderstanding and she needed him. 

He didn’t move.

“I don’t understand this, Faith. We’ve had months to find problems and work them out. I’m happy with you. Are you saying you’re not happy with me?” He reached to slide his glasses up, rubbing his temples. “I know you’re afraid but it’ll be alright. Dearest, we’ll make it work. We have so far.”

“My mom and dad never married; did you know that? I guess it made it easier for old Frankie boy to walk out on us. You know, I can’t think of a single person I know that’s ever been happily married. Can you?”

“My parents were married for fifty seven years.”

“But were they happy?”

“They were very devoted to one another.”

“But were they happy?”

“I’d like to think so. My father died in the Council bombing and my mother died just three short weeks after him. My aunt Matilda said she died of a broken heart. Mum often called him her best friend. They weren’t the affectionate sort, not in the same way as Americans, my father especially was hard to understand in that way, but I know he loved her. And I know she loved him dearly.”

“Fifty seven years. If we got married how far do you think we’d get? Five? Ten? How long before my time runs out?”

“Is that what this is about?”

“And even if I do make it, say we decide to have kids. You’ll be pushing seventy by the time the kid graduates and that’s if an Apocalypse doesn’t take you out of the line of duty first.”

He began to realize this was not the first time these fears played through her head. How often had she thought about them? How long had they been poisoning their relationship? She never mentioned a word to him; he never thought to ask believing the worst of the fears behind them. He softened, feeling pity for these fears and for the woman that carried them based on the experiences of her past. He wanted to heal them as much as he wanted to be able to heal her, but that he could not do alone. She had to believe it. 

“I can’t control the future whatever it will be, Faith. I can’t make you any guarantee but that I’ll love you for all the days of my life.”

“I’ve never needed anyone the way I need you. If I make it real, if I say yes and I lost you…”

She started sobbing helplessly and he was at her immediately, holding her to him. He ran his hands through her hair, murmuring soft, comforting words to her. 

“Good things don’t happen to me; they never have.” She looked up at him, meeting his concerned eyes with hers. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

His heart swelled and he pressed a kiss to her forehead. 

“Darling.” His hand moved soothingly up and down her back. “You’re the best thing that ever happened to me a well. How could you think for a moment that you’re not?”

“No, I know. I just -” She sighed, cutting off her thought. “I’m scared.”

No one that met Faith would ever have thought they’d hear those words come out of her lips. She wasn’t the type to fear, let alone talk about it. She wasn’t generally even the type to allow herself vulnerability around anyone else, but she let herself be vulnerable with him. She buried her face against his chest and wrapped her arms around him, holding him so tightly it was mildly uncomfortable physically. He continued to stroke her hair while she breathed him in, a varied scent that she’d learned all too well. There was a faint scent of his oatmeal soap, his cedar smelling aftershave, brewed tea, and the mildly sweet smell she’d come to recognize as wholly his own. Nothing else in the world felt like him, smelled like him, or made her feel the way he did. 

“Faith, if you’re afraid I want you to know you can talk to me.”

“I know that. It’s just when it’s about, you know -”

“My age.”

“My calling.”

They both had been dancing around those realities since their relationship began. Buffy and the Scoobies had taken up the bulk of the patrolling, allowing the couple to find their feet and bask in as much of a glow as they could be afforded. For once there was no Apocalypse to distract them and break them out of their happy shell. It wasn’t realistic but neither of them had minded taking the time to be a little selfish. He frowned thoughtfully, turning the issue over in his mind before pulling back a bit.

“Maybe there’s something I can do to alleviate some of your concerns.”

“What do you mean?”

“Nothing just yet. Give me a few days to pull my thoughts together. In the meantime,” he crossed to the bed and picked up the neglected box. He opened it and extracted the precious contents, offering it to her again. “Whether it’s tomorrow or ten years from now, I would like nothing more than to be your husband, Faith. I want to spend my life with you. It’s a large step, I know, but I’m ready to make it and I can wait until you’re ready as well.”

“Yes,” she whispered, nodding. Tears streamed silently down her cheeks. 

“Really?” 

He lit up like Christmas, slipping the ring onto her finger. It glittered there with new purpose, looking every bit as beautiful on her finger as he’d imagined. He laughed and picked her up, spinning her around. His smile matched the brilliance of the ruby and he was still grinning as he cupped her cheek and brought her lips to his for a joyful, tender kiss. 

“You brilliant girl,” he purred. “I love you.”

“I love you, too. I want to make you happy.”

“You already do.”

She brought her hand up and admired the ring in the light, unable to stop looking at it. It was impossible to have imagined how much something so small could mean to her so quickly. It was perfect for her and she was amazed how well he knew her to design a ring like this, though honestly she shouldn’t be after all this time. The sneaky Watcher even managed to get the sizing right without ever getting a measure of her finger. There was little about him that should amaze her anymore but she found herself surprised anyway.

“Do you like it?” He asked, holding her to him still, putting his hand over hers, but not to cover the ring. 

“I love it.” She nuzzled him, knowing that soon they’d need to tell everyone their news. For now, though, they had time to celebrate. “And you,” she added.


	28. No Backward Glances

Faith was happier than she could have ever imagined possible which, admittedly, didn’t used to be such a high bar. Now that he was in her life it came effortlessly. She didn’t have to work at adjusting or pretending to be anything other than what she was. It was a weight off of her shoulders but, in some ways, it was also a new weight on her heart. Worry for someone else became more prevalent in her life where it had never dared trespass before. The week was a whirlwind of celebration, telling the others and going out for a big dinner with everyone. They stayed in some nights and daydreamed, planned, celebrated in their own way. 

“Rupert?” 

He appeared at the top of the hall where it emptied into the living room. It was obvious he’d just been in his office. He looked a little strained; she recognized the look he usually got just because a tension headache was about to set it. He smiled at her nonetheless, coming to kiss her cheek.

“What is it, darling?. I thought you were going out with Buffy tonight.”

“She had to cancel.” She frowned thoughtfully. “What have you been doing?”

“Planning our honeymoon.” He nuzzled at her, nipping her neck; she shivered.

“That face is too serious to be thinking about a honeymoon. Besides, shouldn’t I have a say in it?”

“I was going to give you options, darling.”

“Rupert…”

“I have an idea. We’ve been so wrapped up in wedding thoughts you’ve barely had any time to yourself.” He cupped her cheek in his hand, his thumb sweeping her hair back. “I know plans with Buffy fell through but why not spend a nice night out anyway? You can go to a club and come home to tell me all about it.” 

The implication, of course, was to spend her time doing things that would make him jealous to fuel their very passionate lovemaking when she returned amped up and ready. It was a fun game to play and she grinned, thinking about it for a moment. It did sound like a good way to have fun and blow off steam.

“Only if you’ll bust out those magic tricks I like tonight. Deal?”

“Deal.” 

He sealed it with a kiss and a laugh, tugging her to him to hug her before letting her go off to get ready. She took her time, going out only when she looked exactly the way she wanted to, which left his pulse racing. He saw her to the door with another kiss and closed it behind her. He was sorry to lie, but some things needed to be kept secret. He’d told her he needed time to gather his thoughts and in the interim it seemed she’d forgotten that part of their conversation entirely. 

As far as spells went, it was actually dreadfully complicated. 

He’d spent every spare moment he could on research, exhaustively trying to piece together something that would work for what he intended. If she wanted a lifetime together she’d have it, or at least as good of an assurance of it as he could manage. And, maybe selfishly, he wanted to see what it would be like for himself. Again he borrowed from the book he had on magical theory, pulling magic from different sources to supply the one intention he had: to make himself young again. If that would make her feel a bit more at ease, who was he to say no? 

Now, this sort of magic didn’t come easy and he knew he’d be paying a price. These magical laws weren’t broken, and for good reason. It was much easier to, say, halt the aging process before it could progress. That sort of thing happened all the time with magic, maintenance, and the occasional deal with a demon. Reversing the aging process, however, was much more difficult and a lot harder to predict. He was fairly certain he knew what was required and how to head off the worst of the side effects. He was even fairly certain he knew what price he could pay that wouldn’t disrupt his life too much. All there was left to do was cast the spell.

Gathering the things he needed in the living room, but drawing the curtains closed, he got to work. He’d spent so long creating the spell it was practically memorized and he only had a few stray nerves as he started chanting in a gutteral ancient language. The words were slow and deliberate, but harsh to the ear. The candles sputtered as he got deeper into the spell, magic sparking and swirling around him. He didn’t dare stop, not knowing what sort of catastrophic results that would bring. A light began to glow around him and something else seemed to take over his body, chanting words he had not researched and did not recognize. He chanted until his skin began to burn, flaking away. He chanted until he was compelled to scream in pain, his entire body flooded with fire. Somewhere in the middle of the pain he looked down and realized his hands weren’t the ones that began the spell. They were younger, smoother. 

After what felt like an eternity of pain he pitched forward and landed on the carpet, welcoming darkness. 

“Rupert?”

Faith came in a long while later, feeling no pain. She was about to check their bedroom when she spotted him laying facedown on the ground in the living room. Her eyes widened and she vaulted their sofa to get to him, kneeling by his side.

“My God, Rupert!” She turned him over. “Ripper?”

There was a hushed tone in her voice, unable to comprehend what she was seeing. Of course she recognized the magical blitz attack that appeared to have happened in their home. She touched his face lightly, still not sure she believed it. How was she going to call an ambulance when his ID showed him to be a fifty six year old man? She lifted him up, carrying him toward their bedroom. Taking care of magical coma patients was somewhat out of her depth. She laid him down, frowning at him thoughtfully.

“What have you done?”

He roused and she felt a pulse of relief shoot through her. She sat next to him, holding his hand, waiting for him to wake up fully. 

“Rupert, you’re awake. What spell were you casting?”

She was fairly certain she could guess, judging by his appearance and their talk the night he proposed. 

“Stop calling me Rupert,” he panted, his eyes finally focusing on her face after darting wildly around the room. 

“Ripper.” She shook her head. “What spell were you casting?”

“Why should I tell you?”

“Because I have to fix it.”

“Who are you?”

“I’m Faith. Don’t you remember?” She held up her ringed hand. “Your fiance.”

“My what?” He sat up, eyes wide. His mouth was hanging open slightly. “You’re mental! I have no intention of ever getting married, dove, so whatever idea you have in your head…”

“Look to your left.”

She nodded to her nightstand with a photo of the both of them on it. He was older in it, but those were all the pictures she had. 

“What the hell is this?” He picked up the frame and stared at it a long time. “This is a sick idea of a joke. Did Ethan put you up to it?”

“It’s no joke, Rupert.”

“It’s Ripper!” He slammed the photo down onto the bed, cracking the glass. “I don’t believe you.”

“Please, calm down.” She reached into her pocket for her cell phone, full of pictures of them both as well as the other Scoobies.

“What the bloody hell is that?”

“Oh, um…” She pulled in a deep breath. “This is 2004, not 1978.”

“What?” 

Confusion crossed his face before anger quickly took its place. They were so alike, the two of them, that she couldn’t help but understand what was happening. Anger covered a multitude of uncomfortable emotions within herself as well. She unlocked the phone and opened the photo gallery, picking the one at their engagement party.

“Here.” She handed the device over to him. “If you use your finger like this you’ll see more pictures of the both of us.”

He took it, which was good, and didn’t immediately throw it across the room. He spent a minute swiping through their life, or a Cliff’s Notes version of it. He recognized the cottage and parts of London where he tended to roam. He stared at one picture for a long time. She noticed and moved to peek at what he was looking at, sitting back once she realized what it was. A smirk tugged her lips up.

“That was my suggestion.”

“It’s…” familiar anatomy on an unfamiliar body. His eyes traveled down her body none too subtly. “This isn’t a joke, is it?”

“No.”

“I was older, wasn’t I?”

She nodded. “You don’t remember me at all, do you? We met before when you were this age.”

“I don’t know you.”

“You do. Better than anyone else on this planet.”

“No!” He bolted out of bed, raking his hand through his hair. He reminded her of a wounded animal, bleeding but unable to accept help. “No, you’re lying!” 

“Why would I lie?”

“To trick me. To, to confuse me.”

“I love you.”

“I don’t love you. I don’t even know you. I’m not falling for this. Tell Ethan he can find another fool.”

He bolted out of the room, quickly picking his way through the unfamiliar house. She chased after him, trying to stop him from going. Her heart was pounding, heavy with worry. 

“Please, let me call Buffy. We’ll figure this out.”

“Who’s she?” 

If he remembered anyone in the world, she had thought it might be the blond. When he didn’t, she deflated a little in defeat. 

“She’s your Slayer.”

“I’m not a Watcher!” He roared. She could see a thought click into place. “I’m never going to be a Watcher. This is my father’s doing, isn’t it?”

“No, Rupert, he’s-”

“Ripper!” 

She was losing him, fast. She could see it in the way he held his body rigid and the absolute fury in his eyes. She held up her hands in front of her body. He reached for his shoes, noticing the outfit he was wearing and let out a sound of disgust. He tore off the jacket, tossing it down onto the floor. She felt tears stinging her eyes. If she tried to fight him and failed, she’d lose more ground and might not be able to earn it back to fix this. Instead, she turned her eyes to his, pleading with him.

“Please, don’t go.”

“You can’t keep me here, dove. In fact, you can’t keep me at all.”

With that he was out the door.


	29. On the Loose

“He’s gone!”

The entire story came rushing out of the panicking brunette who was still staring at the door as if any minute he might come walking through it. Ha, ha, what a clever joke but no it was me all along. As the minutes ticked by and her story came out it was becoming increasingly obvious that this was no joke. Ripper was loose in London again and was liable to pick up where he left off with no memory to hinder his decisions. He was a menace in the making and every minute they spent looking was another minute where he might make a choice that affected his entire life. When she finished Faith finally took a breath, slumping down onto their sofa amid the magical tools and candles he’d left behind. 

Buffy paused, sighing into the phone. “Alright, I’m coming over. I’ve got to grab Willow first.”

She shuddered and nodded though the blond couldn’t see it. “Hurry.”

Every muscle in her body felt like it was solid stone, held tight by worry. Her brow was furrowed as she watched the door waiting for he, or Buffy, to come through it. She prayed for the first time in her entire adult life to some nameless god that she could find him, that they could bring him home safely. Maybe this was the price they had to pay for all these weeks of peace and joy. Maybe none of them were meant to be happy. She felt a tear slip down her cheek and brushed it away, shaking her head in disgust. She was not this weak. She was strong and determined and would find her fiance come hell or high water. 

Buffy came through the door and Willow trailed in behind her. Both of them looked around the room and Willow shook her head, looking apprehensive. 

“Whatever he was casting was big. You can feel it.”

“He made himself younger.” Buffy shook her head. “I can’t believe it. Why?”

“We had talked about it. Not him making himself younger but, you know, age. Life expectancies. It came up when he proposed.”

Buffy shook her head, knowing her mentor all too well. He’d want to fix it if he thought something was broken, especially when it came to love. All of them knew he didn’t have the best luck on that front. The blond didn’t spot any clues among the magical rubble about where he would have gone and she, admittedly, knew very little about this side of him. 

“Faith, where you do you think he’s gone?”

“I don’t know.”

“Try. You know him better than anybody.” 

“I don’t, not really. The person that knew him best as Ripper is, is -”

“Ethan.”

The two appeared on the same page at the same moment, and Faith nodded fearfully.

“If he finds him and Ethan knows he can’t remember he’ll take advantage of it. Everything he wants to do right now he’ll have the perfect enabler. I’ve seen the two of them together and it’s fireworks all the way. People are going to get hurt or worse. He’ll hurt himself.”

“Or he’ll make a choice now that’ll affect the rest of his life.”

The brunette nodded, though no one had really doubted how serious of a situation this was. 

Willow piped up, picking up something from the floor, a candle. 

“I can try scrying, or a locator spell.”

“Whatever you gotta do, Will.”

“I need something personal of his.”

“How personal?”

“The more he cares about it, the stronger it’ll be.”

Faith nodded, picking up a ceremonial knife that was on display for interest, not for use, and cut her finger. She smeared some of it on her engagement ring, sliding the band off of her finger to hand to the redhead who took it with a knowing nod. It was more than enough. If he was in the city at all, she’d find him.

“He cares about both of these things a lot.”

“I know; it’s good. I need a map.”

Faith went into his office and came out a short while later with a map of London he’d used to map other phenomenon. She handed it wordlessly to the witch. Both Slayers appeared in much the same pose while she prepared: rigid the brunette with her arms crossed over her chest and the blond with hands on her hips. They both looked equally worried, brows furrowed with concern. The blond was nervously biting her lower lip, something they only saw her do in extreme cases. She reached out and touched the other girl, trying to reassure her despite her own nerves. 

Willow lit a few candles and began chanting a simple spell using the ring and a candle he’d used in his youth spell. Laying the map out she hovered the candle over the map and held the ring above it. Magic glowed around the ring and wax dripped onto the map before the light quickly extinguished. Faith rushed over and studied the map, frowning as she straightened.

“That’s not a good look.”

“That’s the same part of town he lived in before. It might be the same building him and his friends crashed in when we met. It means he’s looking for what he knows.”

Worries were no longer just that. They were full blown fears. 

“From here he tries to find the old gang and fails or makes a new one. It’s not hard to find an impressionable person with magical talent and a desire to escape. He’s charming enough and that shit gets addictive too quickly. No offense, Will.”

The redhead blanched and shook her head. “None taken.”

Buffy nodded, completely on the same page with her companion. “How should we do this?”

“I think we should let me do most of the talking but I’m not discounting him seeing you. Maybe deep down he still knows you’re the Slayer, his slayer. That’s what had him interested in me back then: seeing a slayer face to face.”

“You’re a Slayer, too.”

“Not his.” She shrugged, knowing they all knew what she meant. “Anyway, you too have had a bond way longer.”

The blond sighed, wanting to say something to keep Faith from continuing to play down what she knew to be a strong and heartfelt relationship on both sides but opted not to knowing how concerned they both were for him. Right now there were more pressing things than trying to get Faith to develop some much needed self esteem. Find Giles, save the world, and then work on her ideas of value. 

“The tube will take too long.”

“We’re taking his motorcycle.”

“HE HAS A MOTORCYCLE?” 

It was hard to say which girl got to it first, blond or redhead. Faith simply nodded and grabbed the keys from the dish. He had one, though like his guitar it was hardly used. He’d taken her out on it once on a date to impress her perhaps and laughed the entire time about how loud it was, what a disturbance it caused. That’s why he’d gotten it, he confided, when he was younger. He’d wanted the entire row to know when he was about and make his parents shudder for it. Things were different now; he’d said he hardly knew why he kept it anymore except out of nostalgia, but it sat in a storage shed mostly unused under a cover. She pulled it out as it started to rain, never a good sign.

“Hope you’re cool riding without a helmet.”

“Just don’t slip in the rain, ok?”

She nodded, not willing to make an issue of it. She had the reflexes of a Slayer, very little would catch her off guard, but they were both worried and it would be pointless to argue over trivial things. Maybe this was what maturity looked like; she hardly bothered to care. They sped off through the rain, weaving through traffic. The raindrops felt like mini bullets, pelting their exposed skin at the speed they were traveling. She artfully wove through the London streets, pulling steadily away from heavier traffic as they got into the seedier side of town. She stopped the bike in front of the building they’d met in. It looked better than the last time she’d seen it, this entire section of the city under some “beautification” project, but not as good at the townhouse they lived in now. 

“What’s this?”

“This was where him and his friends were squatting when we met.”

“Here?” Buffy’s nose wrinkled. 

Her companion nodded impassively. “There’s a lot you don't know.”

“It seems so. If he’s not here...I don’t know where to begin.”

“If he was here, we’d know. We should have brought Willow. She could track him, maybe.”

“He’d feel it.”

“Would he?”

“Right now he’s got to be confused, paranoid, with tons of magic on his side. He’ll be quick to lash out, angry. He’s looking for something he knows. B…”

The blond picked up her hand and squeezed it. “He won’t be alone, not for long. We’ll find him. Where did he go with Ethan?”

“There was this club, a thrasher bar not too far from here. They’d go there a lot, I think. If it’s still there…”

“Let’s go.”


	30. Tag, you're it

He looked like a king at court when they found him, lounging in a booth in the corner of the bar with dim lighting. He had his arm around a blond to his left and a redhead to his right with a grin like a cat in the cream. Faith tried to take it with a grain of salt, he couldn’t remember himself, but it hurt. He hadn’t spotted them yet but that was good; it gave them time to plan an approach to keep him from bolting again. Everything about this situation was delicate because she knew he believed it wasn’t a prank but she also knew he didn’t want to believe in anything right now.

The club hadn’t changed. As disturbing as change was sometimes it was even more disturbing when time didn’t manage to touch a thing. She looked around noting some new equipment but otherwise the place hadn’t upgraded in the slightest, including its clientele. Faith’s eyes darted to where Ethan had grabbed her wrist and demanded to know how she’d enthralled their fearless leader. A shiver moved up her spine knowing he knew how to work a crowd and quickly. There were already several eager faced young men gathered around him listening to whatever he was doling out in what had to be a smooth, convincing voice. He could promise them the world and make it seem like he’d delivered, bargaining away the best parts of themselves for the next high. It made her stomach turn.

“We need to call Willow. We might need her to run interference with a counter spell.” The brunette cast another look at her fiance.

“How is she going to do that? Counter everyone in the club at once? We don’t know how many of these guys have the magic.”

She sighed heavily. “Good point.”

The witch might be able to do it, but not without a lot of sacrifice. It was a chance Buffy was not willing to take even if it had been a while since Willow’s magical coma. It wasn’t worth the risk to try, at least not right now. They needed to make good use of that card since they could only play it once. Faith swallowed hard. They didn’t have much of a choice but to approach on their own, continue to try to convince him that all of this was a horrible spell gone wrong. 

“You got to him before when he was like this. Go over there and be all...well, I don’t know what you did before to make him listen but do it again.”

“It’s not that easy, B. He wanted to listen before. I don’t think he wants to listen now.”

“We can’t just stand here. He’ll spot us!”

“Too late.”

She saw his eyes on her and he waved a lazy hand toward them. His new recruits eagerly made their way across the bar toward both slayers. Buffy cast a worried glance at Faith, shaking her head subtly. They did not want to try to start a fight. While the Slayers had fist fighting beat, magic could win the day. The brunette jerked away from the man that grabbed her arm, glaring daggers at him until he didn’t dare reach for her again. It was fine, both girls were moving toward his table without the aid of his thugs. She crossed her arms when she reached his table, the other girl followed suit. Keeping a neutral expression she shrugged, waiting for him to speak.

“You’re clever to have tracked me this far. I didn’t think you had magic.”

He tugged the redhead closer to him, looking for a wince that didn’t come. She wasn’t going to show him that he could hurt her that way. Smirking, he ran a hand through his hair. It was awful, but the same red desire pulled at her at the way he looked - dangerous and in control. 

“What do you both want?”

“We’re here to take you home, Ripper, to try to fix this.”

“There’s nothing to fix, dove, nothing at all wrong with me. If you’re looking for something else you’re sadly mistaken.”

“That’s not true,” she insisted. “Give me a chance and you’ll see that.”

“I’m not going anywhere with you,” he snarled in return. 

“We’re trying to protect you.” Buffy frowned. “We’re your slayers. It’s sort of what we do.”

“Slayers? Since when are there more than one?”

“It’s a long story.”

Both girls nodded and Faith secretly hoped that it would appeal to him as it had before. Instead he scoffed and pushed the girls away. His minions closed ranks, letting the girls escape but stepping between the slayers and their new pack leader. The blond cast a worried, furtive look at her counterpart. It didn’t go unnoticed and Ripper waved his bodyguards away with a cocky grin. 

“Unless you’re offering to accompany me to my bedroom, I’m not going anywhere with you. I don’t know you, and I’m not suddenly going to turn into anyone’s lapdog no matter how you want to put me on a leash.”

“It’s not like that.” 

“I don’t CARE!” He slammed both fists down on the table, magic radiating around his entire body with hardly more than a thought. “You think you can come in here and convince me with a few photos and a sad look in your eyes? Say I believed even one thing you tried to tell me, just one - why would I ever go back to that boring, simpering life as sidekick to a slayer?”

His eyes drifted from the blond to the brunette. 

“Do you really think I could ever be satisfied by your side? You look like you could be a devil in bed, but that’s as far as your usefulness goes. I could never tie myself to anyone like you. You’d only keep me from my destiny, not lead me to it.” 

She flinched, an unconscious thing that he took joy in. “You’re going to hate that you said that.”

“Unlikely, pet.”

“I’m not your pet.”

“Not yet.”

“Not ever. Not you.”

“I’m all you have, all that’s here. The sooner you accept that the better.”

He motioned with both hands and rose from the table, stepping on top of it to cross before landing lightly on the ground. His bodyguards immediately filed rank, closing in beside him. All together they looked imposing, but not exactly dangerous against a pair of slayers. He grinned, flashing a white smile that looked far from friendly. Magic sparked around his hands, pulsating red energy that looked as menacing as his expression. His devotees joined his grinning and she wasn’t sure when it had happened, her attention had been drawn elsewhere, but Buffy noticed they were surrounded. 

“Faith…” 

She nodded toward the line of them. It didn’t take long for the brunette’s eyes to flash with understanding and she saw her hands ball into fists. They weren’t getting out of there without a fight. She knew it; Buffy knew it. Ripper knew it, too, looking at them with premature triumph. He motioned to his goons to keep back as he continued speaking. Buffy let Faith give him her full attention 

“Do you know the blindingly absurd thing? I come from a Watcher family. You know what my father laid out for me at ten years old. I’ve been studying slayers my entire life and you came here anyway, knowing that I know all your weaknesses.”

“You don’t remember us.” But the blond sounded hesitant all the same.

“I don’t need to, pet, to make you bleed. Oh, you could trounce me in a proper fight even with all these lads to help me out. Fortunately, I know what you lot are weak to - magic. And that, dove, I have in spades.”

“You don’t want to do this, Rupert.” Faith sounded sure: sounded soft and calm like a ray of light through stormy skies. 

“You haven’t a clue what I want to do. As far as I’m concerned who you claim to know doesn’t exist.”

He launched himself forward, chanting in a quiet guttural tone as he moved. The red light moving to cover his entire arm. Both slayers moved to engage, knowing that this fight wasn’t going to end well for anyone. He threw a punch at the closest head, Buffy’s, and hit her square in the temple. She let out a pained cry, flying across the open space to land heavily on the ground. Faith watched with her jaw dropped, horror painted into her expression. The blond didn’t get up and two of the men picked up her body, one slinging her over his shoulder.

“Rupert, what did you do?”

“Oh, I just created a level playing field. Besides, dove, it’s really you I want to get close to. Your eyes...I’ll admit, pet, I’m intrigued. Given the proper motivation I think you and I just might have the time of our lives.”

“Let her go.” She moved around him, a slow dance of born predators. “Let her go and you can have me instead.”

“Why would I take that deal when I can have you both? Besides, as long as I have her, you’ll come and find me. I have so many fun plans for you both.” 

“You’re an asshole, Ripper, but you’re not evil.”

“I just play the cards, pet. I don’t deal them. You could have just walked away.”

“You know I can’t.”

“I do. I believe you when you say you love me. Thankfully, I’m not so burdened.”

“You want me to be a bad guy?” She set her jaw, staring at him. “Fine, I’m -”

He cracked her against the side of her head. It felt like he’d slammed it into a reinforced steel wall and pain exploded behind her eyes. She let out a quiet sound of surprise, brave words entirely dying on her lips as she sank to her knees. Not fully down, not yet, her brown eyes glanced upward to see him grinning down in triumph. The red faded from around his arms and she cursed herself for not doing the smart thing first in taking him down before he had a chance to strike. Tranquilizer darts or...something. 

She slumped to the ground, struggling to hold on to consciousness. She didn’t see the other girl anywhere but she did see the Ripper kneel in front of her, almost tenderly brushing her hair back from her face. 

“Tag, darling. You’re it.”

He grew hazy first, her eyesight swimming before everything finally faded to black.


End file.
